I won't send roses
by funnygirl00
Summary: "It truly would have been better if Sherlock and I hadn't met, for I killed him." When Tammy moved to London, Sherlock Holmes was the last person she'd expected that she'd have feelings for. Then, a shadow from her past, threatens the happiness that she and Sherlock could have together. This case of 'Lover V.S Brother', Sherlock must handle carefully without breaking her heart.
1. 1: Meeting Sherlock Holmes

**Ok, this is my first Sherlock fic and I'm really excited about it. I am _not _real good with writing mysteries and I'm not 100% sure I gave give this marvelous series all the justice it deserves. But, I was listening to 'I won't send roses' and the song, flashed in my mind as the perfect song for Sherlock and Molly. Now, I'm not crazy about Molly's character, so, I buried the idea. But it kept resurfacing, taking many different forms, and next thing I knew, I'd written four chapters in one day. **

**I own nothing, except for Tammy.**

**I'd like to dedicate this fic to Trrmo77, who's been a great help to me in improving my grammar. (I really appreciate it how carefully phrases what I'm doing wrong with my grammar so I don't feel too discouraged. As a result, I've greatly improved, but there's always room for more.) She's also been a big help to me off fan fiction, helping me get through some difficult times with my family. She's also great at encouraging me when I get a little discouraged with my fics and her reviews never fail to make me smile.**

* * *

Chapter one

Meeting Sherlock Holmes

"I'll never forget the first time I met Sherlock Holmes. We weren't formally introduced, our meeting, it was…an accident. I don't know who, surprised whom more when we met. It shouldn't have happened. It shouldn't have happened. It truly would have been better if it hadn't happened. For I….killed Sherlock Holmes."

* * *

I remember it as if it were yesterday. It was a cold day, one of the coldest winter's London had ever seen. I'd recently arrived yesterday and had moved into a basement flat that my lawyer had recommended for me to move into. The price was reasonable and it was close to the nightclub where I'd be working. Everyone who knew me would find my choice of living rather unusual when one considered my previous lifestyle. But I loved London, I'd grown up her until I turned sixteen, then, my mother died and father needed a change of scenery. I hadn't wanted to leave, but I loved my father too much to add more pain to the grief he was feeling.

As I maneuvered through the cold streets of London with my favorite zebra scarf tightly tucked over my mouth, two men caught my attention. Now, I swear, I did try hard not to pay attention to the two gentlemen talking loudly in front of me. One was tall, had dark, curly hair, and his friend was shorter, slightly older, pepperish-blonde hair and had a minor limp. However, the taller man was agitated about something, and though I tried to ignore him, his voice kept catching my attention. It was truly an interesting voice.

"Think!" He said in agitated, frustration. His friend turned around, momentarily making eye contact with me. A blaze of embarrassment flooded my cheeks, I hadn't intended to appear as if I were eavesdropping. So I reached into my purse to find my MP3 player and listen to Vivaldi. "Who do we trust even though we don't know them? Who passes unnoticed wherever they go?"

_Now_, he _really _had my attention. I loved riddles like these! Father would put to in my backpack every school day for me to solve during the lunch period. I don't know how he kept finding these riddles, some were easy, some were hard, but I always solved them. If I didn't, I sat, pouted and worked until I got it right. My favorite book as a child, next to the Narnia series, was the Lord of the Rings. You can probably guess now that my favorite scene in the Hobbit was where Bilbo and Gollum had their riddle game. Loved the book, wasn't too overly fond of the movie. I never understood why movie studios always felt the need to rewrite the author's work. Still, I liked the actor who played Bilbo, he was well cast.

"Who hunts in the middle of a crowd?"

"I don't know," his friend asked. "who?"

"Haven't the faintest."

I hadn't intended for it to happen, but the answer flashed in my mind. Before I could stop the words, they came flying out of my mouth. "A taxi driver!" I blurted out loud enough to be heard by them.

The taller man stopped so suddenly that I almost crashed into him. I hadn't thought about dying, except at that moment and that's because I was. I was dying of embarrassment. He spun around and I found myself sucking in a breath. He wasn't dark, and drop-dead handsome as his rich, baritone voice had implied. Attractive, yes, but not handsome to my eyes. He was thin; his face was angular with razor-sharp cheekbones. I liked his nose but I considered his eyes to be his most attractive feature.

Oh good God, those eyes had such a piercing gaze that I felt as if he'd completely stripped me in five seconds flat! He had been gifted with piercing blue-green, gold eyes. I suspected the reason for them being so striking was because he had a condition called heterochromia. A friend of mine had the same condition and I envied them. Eyes are the windows to a person's soul and I could tell he was an animated man. I'd definitely gotten more than I bargained for by not keeping my mouth shut.

He stepped towards me. "Say that again." He was tall, I felt like a munchkin standing before the wicked witch. Not that he was evil mind you, just intimidating. And I had on heels! I'm 5' 8' and my heels put me about two inches shy of 6' and I still felt small!

I flushed and tried to get myself out of this mess. "Sorry. I-I was just thinking out loud."

He stepped forward, his voice rumbled. "Then I suggest you think out loud again."

"I just said taxi driver."

Those eyes of his narrowed again. "Didn't anyone tell you not to listen in on a strangers conversation?"

I casually shifted my shoulder, not liking his tone of voice. "Well, you shouldn't be talking so loud in the street. It is public domain you know."

The older man cleared his throat. "I apologize, that riddle's been bugging him all day." He shifted his walking cane to his other hand, extending it to me. "I'm John Watson."

I smiled and extended my hand. "Tammy Taylor." John Watson was a good looking, maturer man. "This is Sherlock Holmes."

I turned to him and lied smoothly, feeling no guilt. "I'm pleased to meet you." The moment our fingers met, I felt a spark between us. But I shrugged it off, I'd deduced a long time ago that I fell in love to easily and I'd never find 'Mr. Right' in my lifetime, so I'd sworn off of men and marriage. And don't get me started on love! Love was for the fools and the weak.

"Don't lie about that." He stated as he examined my hand, his eyes narrowed. "You're enjoying your return to London, I trust?" Sherlock suddenly stated out of the blue.

I frowned and nodded, wondering how he knew that. "You could say that."

"Indeed. You were born and raised here for a good portion of your life." He stated, speaking swiftly without blinking. "Judging by the sticker on your clutch, you arrived here yesterday morning. You lived in New York City for five years before returning here." I feared my eyes were bulging out of my sockets as he continued speaking. "You suffer from a skin condition that forces you to scrub yourself in water, vinegar and lemon. You could go to a dermatologist, but you hate going to doctors and since the cheaper alternative works, you use it. You're an excessive reader; it's a wonder you don't need glasses by now. You must have known the owner of the nightclub you're working at; otherwise you wouldn't have given up your job in a wine factory. Maybe you hated your job or maybe you decided to have a taste of something different. Your clothes are the latest fashion in America; your job paid well, anyone can see you have expensive taste." He glanced down at my hand. "You recently broke off your engagement to your fiancée, he was cheating on you."

At this point, I couldn't say a word; I was so shocked that he knew practically everything about me that I stopped listening to him. A pain had flashed in my heart at the painful reminded of Robert's betrayal. I'd walked into his office to find him satisfying my best friend, Cynthia, on his desk. I remembered the look on his face as he realized he'd forgotten to lock the door. I didn't need to say anything, the instant I saw him, I realized what a fool I'd been making of myself. I'd tricked myself into believing he really loved me, but my father's passing had blinded me. I'd thrown the ring at his head without a word and left without a single look back.

I'd arrived home, opened my computer to be welcomed with a desktop of the London Eye. Four hours later, I'd found myself on the plane headed out to London. My lawyer had contacted and old friend of his and she'd found accommodations for me. Being wealthy had it's pro's, I paid the rent for it, six months in advance and asked that the walls be painted a certain shade of forest green. The landlady, a sweet lady, had agreed, as long as I paid for it.

I loved green; it especially would look good with all my books I'd inherited from my father. Deep green, painted walls and the cherry wood bookshelves made any reading room perfect. I wished that I could be really upset about my father's recent death, but a part of me was happy. Father had never been the same since mother died and it comforted me to know that he was now with her. They'd loved each other deeply, and he'd been inconsolable when she'd passed away. They were together now, and nothing could ever separate them again. It was a beautiful picture for my mind; it helped me come to terms with the grief. However, I did feel guilt that I was able to accept his death so easily.

"Sherlock." John said, his tone reminding him to be more tactfully. "I'm sorry."

"It's all right." I shook my head, pulling my hand out of his grasp. "That was…impressive. How…did you know all that?"

"I didn't know, I saw."

"So then tell me…what color underwear am I wearing?" The look on both men's faces was priceless. I couldn't believe I'd just said that to two men I didn't know, but then again, what else was I to say to the guy? He was being a total pain! "And then once you figure it out, I'll tell you what you missed in my private life. Don't worry, you got most of it right, you just missed a few things." With that, I turned on my heel and moved towards the nearest restaurant across Northumberland Street.

"Well," John said to Sherlock. "was that something people normally say?"

"No."

The nearness of their voices and a quick look behind me, showed that they were following me into the restaurant. I did hold the door open for John, but let it close on Sherlock. He gave me a small glare, catching the door with a bit of a huff. The waiter immediately directed them into the nearest booth. "Thank you Billy."

I moved towards her own seat, draping my coat behind it, then I removed my scarf. "Tammy?" I was preparing to sit down, but I then turned around to acknowledge John. "Would you care to join us?"

Sherlock glowered at John. "I'm certain she wouldn't care to join us."

Now, I really didn't care to join them, but Sherlock irked me so much that I wasn't about to let him have the last word. Besides, John would pleasant company. "I'd be delighted," I shot Sherlock a pointed look. "it beats eating alone."

He shifted in his seat and looked out the window. John allowed me to scoot in the booth, putting me between the two men. Sherlock's cool eyes told me that I was going to be in for an interesting evening.

And it was. Angelo was over-friendly; he couldn't decide if John or I was Sherlock's date. We both stated that they weren't his date but he didn't seem to get the hint. Sherlock didn't say much so I spent most of my time talking to John. We talked about the weather and all sorts of things going on in London. I kept my personal business and residence to myself. Sherlock dropped a few words here and there. He'd occasionally catch something in my conversation and add it to his observations about me.

When I found out that Sherlock was a consulting detective, I was relieved, for that meant that he wasn't some mind reader. I'd never heard of a consulting detective. I guessed that he didn't like to work like most people so he invented a job to suit his needs. If he wasn't so irritating, I'd have asked him to help find my older brother, but then I'd have to put up with him. Besides, Johnny had vanished at age nineteen when mother died. He was my mother's naturally born son from a previous marriage. He never warmed up to father and refused to acknowledge him as his father. But he got along with me; he was wonderful to me. Defended me whenever I needed help. I think he loved being seen as my rescuer, I idolized him, and he crushed my soul when he'd disappeared. Nobody could find him, he never turned up and everyone was assumed dead.

Besides, Sherlock pointed out to john that he didn't have a boyfriend, girlfriend and basically said that relationships were a waste of time. If I wanted to find Johnny, I'd prefer the man looking for him was a family man, so he could relate to my feelings. Sherlock, didn't think about what he was going to say before speaking, so he spoke words that hurt.

I was tired, and a glance at my watch showed that it was getting a little late and I still had work to do in my flat. "I've got to get going, I've got a lot of work to do at my apartment. And I'm certain you two have got somewhere to be."

Sherlock's eyes narrowed. "Look across the street, taxi, stopped. Nobody getting in, nobody getting out." I spun around to look behind me and sure enough, a taxi was just sitting there. I frowned, vexed to be getting drawn into the rather curious atmosphere. "Oh, that's clever. Is it clever, why is it clever?" I smirked and rolled my eyes at Sherlock answering himself. Oh, I everything about him was funny, even when he wasn't trying to be.

"That's him?" John asked.

"Don't stare." He said.

"You're staring." I pointed out.

"Well, all three of us can't stare." He grabbed his coat and got up.

John followed his example and I glanced at Billy. "May I have my check please?"

"Oh no," he said. "Angelo said your meal was on the house tonight."

That's kind of him, please tell him thank you." A loud honking and thud from outside caused me to whip around to see Sherlock bounce off the roof of a moving car! I gasped and bolted, dropping my purse. "Oh my gosh!" I ran out, expecting to see him on the ground, but I soon realized that he'd recovered and he was now, running down the street with John behind him.

The taxi was out of sight and he was mumbling something about the traffic route. Then he took off with John behind him. Curiosity overwhelmed her and I followed them in hot pursuit.


	2. 2: Meeting again

Chapter two

Meeting again

They went into a building, up stairs, then up more winding stairs, and onto the roof. I stupidly followed their example and vaulted over the metal fence to the roof below. A pain exploded sharply in my ankle and my foot crumbled beneath me for a second. I didn't turn my ankle fortunately, but the pain was sharp enough to bring me to my senses.

"Wait a minute." I gasped out. "What am I doing?"

"Come on John." Sherlock shouted from far away. "We're loosing him!"

I limped around the corner and peered around it just in time to see John leap over the end of the roof. I shook my head in dismay as he took off. I stood there, coming to terms that my part of the chase was over. I watched their retreating shadows before a violent coughing fit seized me. It was then I became aware of my pounding heart, icy cold throat and each breath was as if a knife embedded deep inside my lungs.

My mind screamed at me. _Here I am, chasing after two men, chasing a man in a taxi. I don't know either man well enough to go chasing after them! And, I'm running after them in heels! It's a wonder I didn't break my neck or ankle._

By now, I really couldn't breathe properly; I reached for my purse, to realize I'd left it on the floor in the restaurant. It had my inhaler and now I was forced to regain control over my breathing the hard way. I leaned against the brick wall, covered my mouth and tried to breathe deeply. I had the misfortune to be born with asthma and I was allergic to cold air. I kid you not; I am allergic to cold air.

So I concentrated on reciting the lyrics to 'Sunday in the park with George' in my head, focusing on Bernadette Peter's face in my mind instead of struggling to get my next breath. It took several long moments for me to begin breathing normally. I then moved slowly to get off the roof, carefully climbing down the stairs and making the trek back to the restaurant to get my purse, coughing all the way. It sounded like I was coughing to 'Jingle Bells' and I don't like that song!

Angelo was putting on his coat and he had John's cane in hand. "Oh, there you are Miss!" He said to me. "You left your purse and scarf here, I was going to give it them to Sherlock."

"I'm glad you didn't," my voice was raspy and I sounded as if I'd just escaped being strangled. "I don't know the man from Adam."

Angelo laughed. "You had dinner with him."

"He treated me to dinner because I solved a riddle for him," I coughed behind my hand. "and he didn't like it."

Angelo frowned. "Are you ok?"

I nodded and reached for my purse to find my inhaler. "I'm allergic to cold air." His brows rose in surprise as I inhaled deeply. "I'm afraid all that running didn't do any wonders for me."

"Can I get your anything?"

I shook my head. "No thank you. I'll just buy a cocoa or something warm and drink once I'm home." I wrapped my scarf around my mouth. "I'll be fine, thank you."

"All right Missy." His phone sang out with Dean Martin's 'That's Amore', signaling that he'd gotten a text. "Got to go. Sherlock's getting a little antsy."

"Tell John "It was fun,' and tell Sherlock "Pink," he'll know what I mean. I sincerely doubt I'll be seeing either of them again."

He laughed. "You never know."

I merely smiled and exited behind him. It was a small walk back to Baker Street and I found myself casually looking around for Sherlock or John. My cough fortunately subsided when I entered pushed the door open to my new flat on Baker Street. As I took off my scarf, I heard a lot of noise and people loudly talking in the flat above. "Mrs. Hudson?" I called.

"Yes dear?" I turned to see her standing at the top of the stairs. She was such a sweet woman. The kind of landlady everyone wished they had, but couldn't find.

"What's going on?" I asked as I walked up the stairs towards her. "Is everything all right?"

"I don't know." She said with a shrug of her shoulder. "Sherlock's done something."

I paused, hoping against hope; it couldn't be the same man. "Sherlock?" my heart stopped. Sherlock wasn't a common name, in fact Sherlock Holmes, was the first man I'd heard with that name.

"Yes. He's a nice young man."

I exhaled in relief. "Couldn't be the same man then."

"Oh?" Mrs. Hudson said. "Did you meet someone then named Sherlock tonight?"

"Yes." I wrinkled my nose, coughing again. "He was a consulting detective, quite a show off. He had a friend, John Watson, he was very nice, made up for Sherlock's lack of manners."

"Oh you met, Sherlock Holmes! He lives one flat below you."

My heart stopped in my chest. "No way." I groaned and shook my head. "I'll have to see it to believe it." Mrs. Hudson didn't follow me, because the front doorbell rang and she went to answer it. My heart pounded in her chest as I peered inside the door to find Sherlock, John and several police officers in the flat. I moaned and sank against the door in disbelief. "I can't believe it."

I coughed and everyone looked in my direction. Sherlock shot a dark scowl at me. "What are you doing here!?"

"Hoping that this is a bad dream that I'm about to wake up from." I coughed again. "Excuse me."

"Are you ok?" John asked, stepping towards me. "We did take off without a thought of consideration for you. And you're wearing heels!"

"Don't know why." Sherlock mumbled. "She's tall enough as is."

"They almost make me your level." I shot back at him. "And that's worth it."

"Whose this?" Another man asked.

"Inspector Lestrade, this is Tammy Moore." John stated. "She was the one who helped Sherlock realize that the murderer is a taxi driver."

Sherlock glowered and all eyes went to him. "She did?" A female officer laughed. She had an annoying accent. It sounded snooty, but then, maybe that was her whole demeanor. "What's this then? Sherlock got a girl no one knows about?"

"Get your mind out of the gutter Sally." Sherlock said. "I only met the girl once."

I focused on the Inspector; he was a kind faced man. "I'm pleased to meet you." I shook his offered hand.

"Mutual." He cleared his throat. "Pardon our reactions, but Sherlock's just been surprising us today."

"That I believe." I said. "He's a royal pain then isn't he?"

"First, he shows up with Watson as his colleague and now you're on the scene."

"Well, I wouldn't have met him prior to this if he knew how to keep his voice down in public."

John spoke up. "Tammy, this is Sergeant Sally Donovan."

"And she solvin' cases with you? First you get a colleague, now, you got a girl with you!" Sally looked at him with disdain. "For your sake, I suggest you find someone else to date."

"Why don't you mind your own business?" I snapped at her. Now, ordinarily I wouldn't have said anything. But I was cold, my feet were killing me and I really didn't like the woman. "He's all ready stated that we only met once and the man's telling the truth." Everyone stared at me in surprise, well, everyone except Sherlock. He was 'reading' me again. "I for one find your cold, rude and condescending tone of voice towards someone you don't even know objectionable. Also, Mr. Holmes is in the room, and considering you're in his flat, you should keep your opinions to yourself until you're out of his territory."

My little rant set off a cough fit and I groaned in aggravation. "John, she needs something warm to drink." Sherlock's eyes narrowed. "You're allergic to cold air and stress aggravates the condition."

"I'm not going to ask how you knew that." I stated. "But you're still missing a huge part of my life and when you find out, you get to solve the case. If you can figure it out."

"Pink?"

I flushed and scowled at him. "No, and you're not tricking it out of me either."

Sherlock shoved his hands in his pockets and smirked at me. "What makes you think I haven't done that all ready?"

"Because if I had, you'd have spoken up about it long ago. As I've observed, when you're on a roll about something, you can't shut up." He blinked and Inspector Lestrade's mouth was open slightly. "It doesn't take an average brain to figure that out."

For a long moment we stood there, staring at each other. I was attempting to read him as he was reading me. John spoke up. "Is there something here I'm missing?"

"No, John." Sherlock said. "Tammy appears to have a different side to her, that's all. And I shall enjoy, discovering it."

"If I didn't know any better," I said slowly. " I'd say you were flirting with me. But, since you and I have both sworn off relationships, It'll be fun to swap barbs with you…Mr. Darcy."

He frowned. "I sincerely doubt that things have taken that great a turn. Besides, Jane Austen's work, is highly insignificant in regards to relationships."

Mrs. Hudson called up the stairs. "Tammy?"

"Yes, Mrs. Hudson?"

"It's men with a bunch of boxes for you."

I clapped my hands in delight. "Wonderful! The paint should be dry by now! Now I can go put all my books up in the bookshelves."

"Told you she was an avid reader."

I rolled my eyes. "I'm a _collector. _My father bought me many books when I turned fifteen. Several hundred are first editions and extremely rare. I've even got an autographed copy of 'A Christmas Carol.' You were close when you said avid reader Sherlock, but some books are best left behind enclosed glass."

Sherlock glowered. "Ten to one the book is a fake."

I crossed my arms over my chest. "You'll never know. If you even breathe on the book, I shall have to kill you immediately and without hesitation."

He rolled his eyes, as if he were talking to a child. "That would be a huge accomplishment on your part."

"I was thinking the same about you. Just because you're good at deducing, doesn't mean you know everything." That remark, clearly left him insulted. I walked proudly out of the room, determined to read up on Pride and Prejudice and have every witty comment at my disposal.


	3. 3: Mind games in the kitchen

Chapter Three

Mind games in the kitchen

* * *

_A week later,_

* * *

"Sherlock? Is everything all right?"

Now, I'd been hearing grunting and clattering in the apartment since I knocked on the door a minute ago. Finally, my curiosity just couldn't be controlled anymore and I pushed the door open, just as Sherlock fell back on the couch. A man in full Middle Eastern garb stood over him with a sword, drawn back to strike Sherlock!

"SHERLOCK!" I screamed loudly, dropping the Pyrex food case. The man with the sword looked at me, giving Sherlock the advantage of kicking him in the stomach sending him backwards!

Sherlock stood up, tugging his coat properly back into place. If he weren't in danger, I would have laughed at him. Like, who else but Sherlock, would think about their appearance when they were about to get their head chopped off and their body sliced into multiple, tiny pieces?

"Thank you!" He stated before lunging at the man.

I stared at him, watching them grapple for a moment before shaking my head. Why was I just standing there?! I flew into action the moment the man had Sherlock pinned on the kitchen table with the sword pressed to his throat! I went for the little lamp by John's chair and was just about to swing it when the man came flying backwards at me!

I shrieked and side stepped him, but the sword nicked my forehead. I let out a yowl and swung the lamp at him, I missed his face, but caught his arm. Unfortunately, the man was right-handed and I hit his left arm. The man let out a growl and swung his sword at me!

"Sherlock!" I screamed as I had the sense to do a shoulder roll as the sword came swinging towards me. The man came at me again, but Sherlock intervened this time. The man swung the sword at Sherlock and I held my breath, my heart jumping with each swoop.

"LOOK!" Sherlock shouted. The man looked towards where Sherlock pointed, just as Sherlock planned, with one punch, the man was unconscious on the couch. Sherlock began straightening his coat and fixing his lapels just right.

"Right." I exhaled. "What…the heck…did I walk into?"

He turned and frowned at me. "Unusual word choice, most people would say Hell."

"Well, I don't feel like saying H-E double, hockey sticks." Sherlock tilted his head to the side and I waved my hand at him. "Fine, don't worry about me. Just….let me sit on the floor while you preen with your appearance."

"I do not." He stated indignantly. "And you can get up on your own."

"I'm certain I can…in five minutes," I laid flat on my back, looking up at the ceiling. "you preening peacock!"

"That was a judo roll you did just now." He said. "You're more that capable of rolling back up!"

"I never took any form of martial arts in my life. It was part of my gym exercise program."

He studied me and pulled me up with one hand. "Like you need to go to the gym."

"Nice to know that my physical features are pleasing to you."

"No." He said stepping towards the kitchen. "I just observed that you're simply the proper weight for your height."

"What about your weight?"

"I am slightly underweight, but then I do lead a very active life."

"Don't tell John that, he'll never recover from the shock."

"A life that is equally physically and mentally taxing."

I groaned. "Why do I bother asking you some questions? The answers are always so obvious."

He stepped towards her. "Because you're a talker, not an observer."

"Ahh, the opposites attract game?"

"Not really."

"If you think about it, I really am your better half." I teased. "You observe but don't talk." He pressed something cold and wet on my forehead. "What is that?"

"You're bleeding."

"Oh. I'd forgotten. Is it bad?"

"You'll live."

I nodded as he methodically wiped the blood that had trickled down my face. His fingers were long, so his thumb kept brushing my cheek. Against my will, his gentle touch kept causing me to shiver. _What is the matter with me? This is Sherlock! These feelings….I shouldn't even be having them. It's just…yuck! _I hoped that he couldn't observe my struggle to control my emotions.

"Your pupils are dilated." He said.

"It stings." I half snapped at him, vexed that he was reading me all ready. "I did just get cut you know."

"Really?" His eyes danced in amusement at my immediate protest. "Me thinks," he ran his hand down my cheek. It caused me to start at the gesture and the look on his face told me that he was 'experimenting' to see if I'd react to him. "the lady doth protest too much."

I knew Sherlock was teasing me. He wanted a reaction out of me, and I wasn't going to give him one. "Well, if you're expecting me to be attracted to you, you'd be wrong Sherlock." I ran my finger down his forehead to the tip of his nose slowly; his eyes followed my finger, causing me to laugh. "But I must admit I love teasing you."

He laughed tightly and stepped away from me. He turned to where his unconscious assailant was beginning to stir. "Ahh, excuse me."

"We've really got to stop playing these mind games." I said.

He ignored me as he picked up the sword and pointed it at the man. "You dropped that food case by the door."

"Right!" I snapped my finger and went to pick up the discarded case. "I got to feeling so sorry for you and John and thought I'd bring you two down something. From now on, I'll call before coming down."

"Advisable." I picked up the case and examined it for cracks. Sherlock then chased the man out of the room, shouting at him in some foreign language, obviously threatening him. I rolled by eyes as Sherlock laughed at the man stumbled out of the room. He closed the door and looked at the glassware I had in my hand, his eyes narrowed. "What is that?"

"You're the detective, I'm the cook, start deducing."

"I would have said macaroni and cheese, but it's all cheese and no macaroni."

I wrinkled my nose in distaste. "Funny. You'll see I make the best macaroni and cheese in the world!" I entered the kitchen and surveyed it, and it was a huge mess. "When was the last time you guys cleaned this place? Never mind! Why am I asking?" I exhaled dramatically. "You're men! And between the two of you, I'd say John is the only one who actually cleans."

"Sound deduction. Now, are you leaving?"

"Never." I began taking off my jacket and rolling up my sleeves. "I'll have nightmares about this place."

"What are you…you're _not _cleaning this room!" He stated loudly. "I have everything in the perfect place."

"Try and stop me." I knelt and peered under the sink looking for cleaning supplies. Upon finding them, I began pulling them out. "I don't even know where to begin."

"How about by leaving?" He bit out. "I don't want any of my stuff messed with!"

I ignored him and opened the refrigerator to place my macaroni and cheese inside, when a foul smell smacked me in the face. I made a face and began pulling out the food, checking the expiration dates. Sherlock began objecting as I started throwing them away. "You're throwing food out!"

"A sound observation." I said drolly, attempting to impersonate him. "You should become a consoulting detective. Oh wait, you are one. My mistake."

"Ohh," he growled. "Tammy this is my flat-

"Yours and John's."

"It's not yours!"

"John wouldn't mind."

"How do you know?"

"Because, John and I think on similar brain waves, yours are far superior above ours, remember? Or did you happen to delete that information?"

I needed to tune him out. Fortunately, I'd been planning to go to the gym, so I'd clipped my MP3 player, with speaker, to my belt hook. So I turned it on and seconds later, music by Vivaldi, the last artist I'd been listening to, filled the kitchen. I began humming along to the music and continued with my assault on the kitchen.

"Classic music lover?" He said, grabbing a hold of my MP3 player and began skimming through it. "Quite unusual for a cabaret owner and singer. You're a Sondheim fan? Unusual, I had you figured for the Webber type."

"I used to be a huge Webber fan, but Sondheim is pure genius. Webber is overrated; all he can do is the music. Sondheim writes songs that you can connect to emotionally, Webber's are something out of a fairy tale."

"And you _used _to be a fan, I shudder to think of what you'd be if you weren't a fan."

"Just as nasty. But anyway, you and John should come down and see my show." I tied my long hair back out of my face. "I open in four days time, you guys probably won't see much of me after then."

"We'll be busy, and as for not seeing you in that time, I don't know if that's a blessing or a curse."

"Why am I not surprised at that? I'll stock your fridge. Oh gross." There was a frozen block of cheddar cheese, which had molded and then frozen in the back of the refrigerator. "This is disgusting."

I saw a streak of something red on the wall and I couldn't decide if it was strawberry jelly or blood. My stomach churned slightly, on that thought entering my mind. "Then stop throwing food out and get back up to your apartment!"

"I will….later. Go sit down and read a magazine or something. Better yet," I pointed in the living room. "straighten up the room before John suspects you actually did leave your chair this morning!"

Sherlock mumbled under his breath and I laughed lightly. I honestly wished that I could really get mad at him, but Sherlock, even on his worst days, was quite amusing, no matter how cross he tried to act. He let me clean in peace, occasionally telling me that I was using too many chemicals or that I'd missed a spot.

Ten minutes later, John came back to see that I'd just finished mopping the floor and I was now actually daring to dust the living room with Sherlock boring a hole into my back. "Don't touch my skull!" He barked at me.

"Then pick it up and move it yourself Hamlet." I said. "Or I'll pick it up and dust under it myself, don't you dare step on the kitchen floor John!"

John shook his head with admiration. "And I thought I had trouble."

"Trouble?"

"I had a row with the chip and pin machine."

"I hate those things. I completely sympathize." I picked up the skull and dusted under it, thanking God that Sherlock wasn't give any of Superman's vision powers. I'd have been disintegrated by now.

"I said, don't touch my-

"John," I ignored Sherlock completely. "you two don't have to buy dinner tonight. I'm stocking up my freezer with homemade dinners. I made a casserole for you two. Upon cleaning out your refrigerator, I should bring some of my casseroles down and replenish it."

"We don't even know if you can cook good."

"Thank you." John interjected. "That's kind of you."

"No problem. You're missing a few essentials though."

"You're bleeding."

I shrugged. "Cut myself, I'm fine."

John frowned. "How'd you do that?"

Sherlock bolted upright and out of his chair. "I need to go to the bank. John."

"Right." John exhaled. "I'll see you later. You don't need to do this Tammy."

"I know, I don't need to, but I want to."

"John!" Sherlock called. "Tammy, it's time for you to go."

I shook my head. "I can't leave yet. This place is a mess!"

"I've got to lock up."

John handed me his key. "Here." Sherlock shot him a glare. "What?"

"Why not just give her, her own key to our flat," he bit out. "so she can come and go as she pleases?"

"I all ready do that so it would be nice to have a key. Thank you John, now, both of you, go on, nothing's going to happen to me between now and then…I hope."

Sherlock glowered at me. "If I find one, piece of paper out of place…you will rue the moment…you touched it!"

I shrugged. "I all ready cursed the day I met you, so, ruing the moment I put a piece of paper out of order will seem inconsequential."

Sherlock stared me down and I crossed my arms over my chest and matched him back glare for glare. . My MP3 player switched to Sara Bareilles 'Fairytale,' perfect for the moment.

John cleared his throat. "The bank Sherlock?"

"Right." He said. "Let's go."

I called after them. "What time can I expect you?"

"Would you prefer to know that before or after I decide to kill you?" Sherlock called.

I laughed. "Before, definitely, I'll have all evening to decide how I'll return to this earth and haunt you! I'll clean your apartment until it sparkles and then you can't dispose of me!"

"Oh stop it," John said. "you two don't mean half of what you say to each other anyway. He really appreciates it Tammy."

"I know."

"No I don't not care." Sherlock said. "And how do you know that we don't mean what we say to each other?"

"I just know, let's go." John exhaled and moved towards the stairs with Sherlock in tow. "Honestly Sherlock, Tammy is terrific."

"Then marry her and get her out of my hair."

"I don't think of her like that." John said as he trotted down the stairs. "She's better for you."

"God, what a horrible thought!"

For once I agreed with Sherlock, that truly, was a revolting thought.


	4. 4: Sooner or later

Chapter four

Sooner or later

The next three days I was so busy that I didn't get to see Sherlock or John during that time. Between ordering new chair cushions, tablecloths, redoing the décor, I'd slept overnight at the club. Tonight, I climbed the steps to my apartment to shower and change into my formal dress.

I wasn't surprised to find three pieces of paper, written with complaints from Sherlock on it. At the end, he demanded my number so he could text me when he had a question. He claimed that he couldn't find certain things that I hadn't touched. I rolled my eyes, just what I always wanted. Sherlock Holmes having my cell phone number, there'd be days of peace and happiness! I crumbled up the papers and threw them away. Sherlock was great for a laugh, but I had work to do.

It was wonderful step out of a bubbly, gardenia scented bath. I felt fresh, clean, beautiful and ready to tackle the world. Then, I climbed into my red, formal dress. I loved it; it was a simple red dress, but simple was hot. It had a deep neckline that wasn't too plunging; it had a slit that went almost up to my hip. I hadn't felt beautiful in such a long time. As I came down the stairs, I heard John and Sherlock talking in their flat and decided to pop in on them on my way out.

I tapped on the door and John called. "Come in."

I waltzed in. "Hello!"

Sherlock glowered. "There you are!"

"Don't bother asking Sherlock, I threw the paper away without reading it." I turned to John. "I'm off, the club officially opens tonight!"

John's brows rose. "That's right! Thanks for telling me"

"John." Sherlock said. "Don't be predictable."

"Am I missing something?"

"I've got a date, tonight, actually."

I grinned. "That's wonderful John. Listen, I'll leave a table open for you, and if you and your date come by, dinner and drinks are on the house!"

"We'll definitely do that." He said with a pointed look at Sherlock.

"Boring!" Sherlock said. "It's not spontaneous enough."

"You haven't seen the club." I giggled. "I promise, it's spontaneous."

"Don't giggle Tammy," he said. "it doesn't suit you."

"Don't talk, it doesn't suit you." I turned to face John. "I'll see you two later, hopefully. Wish me luck."

"I will." John eyed me. "You wearing your formal dress under there?"

"Yes. Sherlock probably all ready knows what color it is."

"Judging by the lipstick, I'd say red."

"Right." I pulled my coat back and twirled. "How do I look?"

John's eyebrows arched approvingly. "You look wonderful. Doesn't she Sherlock?"

Sherlock glanced up at me once, then dropped his gaze. "She looks very fine." Coming from him, that was a compliment, and I caught him sneaking another glance at me from out of the corner of his eye.

Then I noticed the huge mess the flat was…again. "Still trying to find a book that everyone would own?"

"Yes." Sherlock said. "Now go away."

"Eighty years ago, I would have said the Bible, but not so many people read it that much now." I peered in the cases and glanced at a few books. "A dictionary-"

"No go." Sherlock said.

I continued as if he hadn't interrupted me. "Would be a possibility, but since it's now, how about a phone book or something like that? Or London A-Z?"

Sherlock stopped and his head shot up. He then bolted for his shelf and pulled it out, flipping the pages open. I must have been all right, for his grin got broader. "Yes!" He shouted. "John!"

"Ahh, no." He stated moving out of the room. "I've got a date and I intend to keep it."

"Go John, I'll stay here for a bit." I pulled out my phone, texting my assistant manager that I'd be late. "I'll help him."

Sherlock laughed mockingly. "You don't even know what's going on."

I unbuttoned my coat and leaned over his shoulder. "John's texted me some details throughout the day, I've got a fair idea."

As I leaned over his shoulder he said. "Elizabeth Taylor's Gardenia."

"Yes, stop identifying my perfume, now, the code?"

I watched as he translated the code. "All right Riddler."

I stopped, my nose wrinkling in distaste. "The Riddler?"

"You like solving riddles."

"Thank you, but I'm not a big Batman fan. I don't even look like Frank Gorshin." I stopped talking as Sherlock finished deciphering the code.

"Nine mil. for jade pin. Dragon den, black tramway." He jumped up. "Right!" He grabbed his scarf. "Phone the yard, ask for inspector Dimmock, send him to the tramway."

"Right." I reached up and kissed him on the cheek. "Be careful. Don't get hurt, these smugglers are dangerous." Sherlock stared at me for a moment. I blushed and stated. "Your pupils dilated."

He shook his head. "No they aren't."

"Then, go catch those guys. I'll see you later." I smirked. "Then you can tell me how you can see if your eyes are or aren't dilated."

"Right." That's when he did something…weird and wonderful. He gave me an awkward hug around the shoulder, catching her off guard. "Good luck." And with that, he dashed out of the room.

* * *

_Sooner or later you're gonna be mine. Sooner or later you're gonna be fine. Baby it's time that you faced it; I always get my man._

I was distracted; I was worried about Sherlock, dashing off to confront a gang of smugglers, hoping that the police were on their way there. In the states, it took forever to get a policeman out! What had gotten into me? Why had I kissed him on the cheek? It had just seemed like a natural impulse, and I obeyed it!

_Sooner or later, you're gonna decide. Sooner or later, there's nowhere to hide.  
Baby it's time so why waste it in chatter? Let's settle the matter. Baby, you're mine on a platter; I always get my man._

I'd sworn off of love, and here I was, obviously feeling something for Sherlock Holmes! Now, I don't know how, or when it started, frankly, it was too soon to have feelings for _any _man. I honestly had no business caring for him. He didn't have friends and he cared about no one. So, why would I be willingly resigning myself into a relationship that could only end in tears?

_But if you insist, babe the challenge delights me. The more you resist babe, the more it excites me. And no one I've kissed babe ever fights me again! If you're on my list, it's just a question of when. When I get a yen, then baby amen! I'm counting to ten and then._

I hadn't felt nervous tonight. I'd sung in public before and had great success. I had wanted to be a singer but never really got the chance. My father's wine company was a huge success and when he'd grown weak, I'd taken over. Now, the company was an international success, I was worth millions. London was a chance for me to start a new life, I had enough money to live lavishly, but I loved the simple lifestyle. I could be loved or admired for what I was, and not because of my social status or the size of my checkbook.

_I'm gonna love you like nothing you've known. I'm gonna love you and you all alone. Sooner is better than later but lover. I'll hover, I'll plan._

That's, when I saw Robert, my ex fiancé, standing in front of me. I was prepared to handle anything, but the shock of seeing him there almost knocked me flat. John and Sarah noticed my reaction, but no one else in the club did. What was he doing here? How did he find me? He was handsome, every single girl that he'd passed by was giving him 'the eye,' but he ignored them. Acting as if he were totally focused on me. Finally, I found my voice again.

_This time I'm not only getting, I'm holding my man!_

That's to Robert's startling appearance, I didn't have time to panic over the high note. I hit it square on and the room rang. The audience clapped and whistled as I curtsied blew kissed and bowed to them. Robert stepped forward, holding a bouquet of roses. I hesitated for a moment before accepting them; I wasn't going to cause a scene on opening night.

I accepted them, asking through a clenched smile. "What are you doing here?"

"Looking for you."

That said, he kissed me! He actually, had the nerve to kiss me, in public, in front of the whole crowd. I pulled away; smile intact, but my eyes were throwing knives at him. "Stay…away…from me!" He allowed me to step away from him and I hurried towards my dressing room.

I opened the door and slammed it behind me. I threw the roses on a spare chair and groaned. The door opened and I whipped around to see Robert in the doorway. "Get out of here. Now!"

He closed the door behind me. "Tammy, let me explain!"

"I don't need to hear anymore lies!"

"Tammy, I was set up!"

"Ho? And I suppose what you were doing with her on the desk was…an accident?"

"Tammy, it was an accident."

"And you getting back into my life is going to be an accident as well!" I grabbed the roses; they shook angrily in my hands. "Take these….bribes and get the heck out of my life!"

Again, he pulled me into his arms and kissed me. To my disgust, old feelings started to stir within me. I pushed at his shoulders; there was a time when his could have put whatever had been bothering me out of my mind. But now, for some reason, I felt as if I was betraying someone. The worst part of it is that, I felt the pain of betraying somebody who didn't really, even know that I existed.


	5. 5: Sir Matthew Crawley

Chapter five

Sir Matthew Crawley

I jerked my head to the side, but his lips continued their disgusting assault on my neck now instead of my mouth. "Stop it." I snapped. "I thought you at least would have the decency to stop forcing yourself on me."

His lips stilled and he frowned. "It seems you were hurt more than I anticipated."

I rolled my eyes. "And what was your clue? Was it the fact that I was gone the next day or the ring that I threw at your head? How did you find me?"

"Your lawyer."

I groaned. "I should sue him."

"I told him it was an emergency. And it was, I needed to speak to you."

I groaned. "I thought that it was obvious that when I didn't leave my address that I didn't want to speak to you!"

"I swear, Cynthia set me up." I frowned. "Think about it, she had her hands on me."

"I'm not an idiot. I was standing there a lot longer than you realized."

"Ask Cynthia."

"Ask Cynthia?" I glowered at him. "I terminated my friendship with her. Why should I contact her?"

"It took me weeks to get her to agree to tell you the truth. Please," he begged. "just call her."

"No." I said firmly. "It may surprise you Robert, I didn't cry when we broke up. It hurt, but you just weren't worth crying over. Maybe that's a clue that I wasn't really in love with you. In fact, I'm certain now that I wasn't in love with you."

"What are you trying to say?" Robert asked. "What do you mean you're certain now?"

"I met someone else Robert. I met him the day I got off the plane and we've been inseparable since." The look of shock on his face was well worth the lie. I crossed my arms. "He's a good man. He's exceptionally clever and he's a very special man."

"You're lying." He ground out. "It took me months to get you to agree to go out on a date with me."

"That's because you're 'you' and you're clearly not him." I said. "He's a special man. In fact, we got along so well that we went out on a date the first day we met. I love him."

"You can't be in love with someone else in only a few week."

"No one tells the heart whom to love."

"Who is he?" Robert demanded.

I rolled my eyes. "Oh please."

"I want to know!" He shouted. "Who is he?"

"Do you really expect me to tell you that?" I laughed. "Honestly! Do you know how much you sound like a spoiled child?"

"What does he do?"

"He's a consulting detective, and that's all I'm going to tell you." I don't know why I decided on using Sherlock as an example. Maybe it was because he and I had all these mind battles together, that now, after going up against Sherlock in a battle of the wits, Robert would be a pushover!

"You're making this up. I demand to see a photo of him."

"No. I'm not going to." I said. "I wouldn't give you the satisfaction of degrading him."

"Because you've made up this mystery man just to make me suffer!" He shouted. "I dare him to walk through that door."

To my complete shock, the door to my dressing room did open and Sherlock walked into the room. He walked towards me with a broad smile.

"Tammy, darling," he pulled me into his arms and kissed me on the cheek. I was shocked, but I played along with him. He must have been listening outside, for he had no other reason for such a performance. The case was solved, he didn't have anything else to do and he was bored. "you were marvelous." He breathed in my ear. "Play along."

"Gladly." I hissed back. "Thank you." I wrapped my arms around him, allowing Robert's roses to fall to the floor between us. "Oh Sherlock, I was so afraid you wouldn't make it."

He laughed lightly, running his hand down my cheek tenderly, as if he were my lover. "As if I'd miss your debut for anything in the world."

"Are you all right?" I stepped back and eyed him "Did the smugglers get caught?"

"One got away, but lets not talk about that now." He tilted my chin up, his eyes dancing. "I missed you."

With that, he wrapped his arms around my waist and kissed me lightly on the lips! My heart jumped in my chest and I trembled at Sherlock's show of affection. But I caught on to the game, which my heart wasn't playing along with, and ran my hand up his shoulders, running my fingers through his hair. Sherlock's hands had slid down my waist to my hips, pulling me closer towards him.

"Are the two of you aware that I'm still in the room?" Robert shouted. "Tammy?!"

I pulled away, letting out a moan of disappointment. I'm afraid that I I was staring at Sherlock like a love struck fool. He turned towards Robert, who's face was turning red. His veins bulged and he had the appearance on someone who'd drunk a gallon of gasoline.

Sherlock turned and smiled that smile that I'd dubbed, 'I'm getting ready to show off' smile. "You must be Robert, her ex-fiancé. Oh well, one man's loss is another man's gain."

"Who the hell are you?"

"Her boyfriend." He stated, studying Robert. Sherlock then took off on one of his deductions. "You just flew in this evening. You must have known exactly where she was, otherwise you wouldn't have come straight here." Robert's face began to pale. Most of the time, I felt sorry for Sherlock's 'victims' but tonight; I relished watching Robert squirm. "The waitress fancied you and you two had a quick shag on the back wall outside the French restaurant 'Chardonnay.'"

"Robert!" I shouted at him. "How dare you!"

"I swear," he shouted back at me. "none of this is true!"

"Really?" Sherlock said. "There's a faint trace of lipstick on your neck and mouth." I squinted, Sherlock had perfect vision and he was right. Your clothes are wrinkled and again, we have lipstick on your collar. You smell of 'Casaba Nights,' Tammy prefers 'Elizabeth Taylor's' line of perfumes. There's a phone number, written on a napkin, peeping out of your pocket. The handwriting shows it's a woman's and a lipstick kiss on it shows it was definitely romantic. The word 'Chardonnay' is printed on the napkin and the restaurant is just next door. Not to mention, you forgot to zipper your trousers up."

"Sherlock love, please hold off for a moment." I asked him as politely as I could through my teeth. "I believe you, but I want to get this…piece of trash out of my sight!"

"Tammy, I swear-"

"Oh shut up! You get out of here!"

"Wait a minute!" He snapped. "I flew all the way out here from LA! You can't throw me out now!"

"Really?!"

Sherlock rubbed my shoulders. "Calm down, your vocal chords."

I inhaled deeply. "Why would I destroy all my chances within a day of seeing you? I bought you roses for your opening night!" He shot Sherlock a smug look. "Which is more than _your boyfriend _did!"

"Wrong!" Sherlock reached into his pocket and handed me a fake rose. "I brought her a rose."

_That _really took me off guard. I smiled as I accepted the fake rose. It was a deep red, painted with red and silver glitter. The leaves were velvety, also painted with green glitter. It was an unusual present, but I'm certain Sherlock had a reason for it. "Thank you Sherlock." I stretched up and kissed his cheek. "I shall treasure it."

"It's a _fake._" Robert spat. "I spent fifty pounds on those roses you trampled."

"Actually ten," Sherlock said. "you bought them off the street corner. I happened to see you just before I entered, but I had to talk to a friend for a moment."

"Shut up!" Robert shouted. "I swear, I'll kill you if you don't shut up!"

I rolled my eyes. "That's big of you Robert. Sherlock is unkillable."

"Don't bet on it."

"Get out. Now." I said, pushing the button I'd installed in my dressing room for security. The hurrying footsteps signaled they were coming. Moments later, two guards burst into the room. I pointed at Robert. "Escort him out and make sure he isn't admitted back here again." I turned to Sherlock. "And you _better _have me on that couch in fifteen seconds!"

Sherlock laughed loudly, to disguise his barely veiled shock at the implication that came out of my mouth. "Be patient!" He slid his hand down to my lower back, to Robert; it would look as if Sherlock were actually groping me. "All good things come to those who wait."

Robert shouted as he was grabbed and pulled out. "I'll get you for this Sherlock Holmes! I swear it!"

"Good day!" Sherlock slammed the door in his face and turned to face me. "Well, that was interesting."

"Indeed, I was thinking more tedious than fun." I exhaled and nervously rubbed my fingers on the leaves of the fake rose. "Thank you Sherlock and I'm sorry."

He frowned. "Make up your mind if you're thankful or sorry."

"All right, thank you…for making it seem like you're my," I almost choked on the word. "boyfriend. And I'm sorry…for putting you in this situation. He did threaten you."

"I'll add him to my list of enemies." He said blandly.

I shook my head. "You're a funny man Sherlock, that's why I love you." My face flushed red as his eyebrows rose. Why did I just say that?! I began to stammer. "Not in a romantic way! As a friend! You know! Like John does! Oh, gosh!" I slammed my makeup desk with my hand. "I'm babbling now!"

"I understand." He said, as if he were brushing a pesky fly off his suit. "I deuced that."

"Of course." I exhaled. "Where'd you get the rose?"

He shrugged. "I bought it on my way here, of course."

"That's really kind of you."

"John told me to buy you some flowers, but that's so predictable." He sat on the edge of my dressing table, watching me powder my face. "Can you guess why I bought a fake rose?"

I nodded. "Because you're Sherlock Holmes and all your ideas are unique. I can treasure it." I ran my finger along the glittery petals. "Every time I look at this rose I'll remember…so many things. My opening night here. The rose will never die." I wanted to add I'd remember being kissed by him for the first time, but the words couldn't come. "It's beautiful."

But Sherlock wouldn't let it go. "What else?"

"What do you mean?"

"You said," he stated, leaning forward and studying my face with critical eye, brushing at some powder above my brow. "it's a little heavy here, but you said you'd remember so many _things_. So far, I've only heard you name one."

I exhaled and ran my hand over my eyes. "Sherlock, it's been a rough day and I don't need you, a male, giving me makeup advice. You know what I meant."

"Maybe, I want to hear you say it." His eyes pierced straight through the windows of my soul. "Look Tammy, I only kissed you as a favor. I've all ready said that girlfriends are not in my line."

"I'm aware of that Sherlock." I said holding his gaze as best I could. "Boyfriends aren't in my line, just as girlfriends aren't in your line of work. I think it's evident in my poor choice in Robert!"

"I'm trying to say Tammy," he hesitated. "I'm not stupid. I could feel that you reacted to my kiss."

I went red and rolled my eyes. "Oh please!"

"And…. I want to apologize. I shouldn't, have ever done that."

"I am not attracted to you Sherlock Holmes, I could never be!" I glowered at him. "If you're thinking I'm attracted to you just because you kissed me, you're wrong! I simply wasn't expecting a kiss, so I reacted to it! If it had been John, I would have done the same thing!" I demanded. "So, you can get that ridiculous thought out of your head this instance!"

He tilted his head. "You're crying."

"I am not crying!" He took my chin in his hand and made me look at the mirror. To my distress, I was crying! "Oh great!" My voice broke. "Now I don't even know when or why I'm crying!" I snapped at him. "And don't you dare start deducing me because you know _nothing_ about women! And I know for certain you know nothing about me!"

Sherlock stared at me for a moment before rubbing my hand. "I thought I did, now I'm not so sure. You've got a personality that changes faster than one can blink an eye."

I exhaled. "I'm sorry, it's just…I didn't think I'd see him again. And he's a….a… oh, I can't say what I want to say! It's too dirty!"

Sherlock laughed. "Little Miss Prim and Proper, you are. I like how you're one of the few people who can't bring yourself to swear." He continued rubbing my hand, sending tingles down my spine. "How come you don't?"

"I dropped the four letter 'S' word when I was twelve, and father washed my mouth out with soap. Then he gave me a spoonful of molasses." Sherlock made a face that said he completely sympathized with my punishment. "I never swore again, besides, what good does swearing do? I'm sure you've deduced that the nastiest of people have the dirtiest of mouths."

Sherlock nodded. "And isn't it a wonder that the nicest people don't swear?"

"I don't mind an occasional word, as long as it's not vulgar, and only if you're making a point." I shrugged. "And I'm not nice. I shout at you."

"You challenge me."

"I boss you around."

"You stand up to me."

"I think you're an idiot!"

"And I think you're cleverer than you give yourself credit for."

"Sometimes I think you're really a lot softer than you act." I exhaled as I picked up the rose and twirled it. "This is really sweet."

"Most girls wouldn't understand why they were given a fake rose." He said firmly. "But you did."

"What did I miss?"

"Nothing. You deduced everything perfectly."

"Good." I turned back towards the mirror. "I've got about five minutes to fix my makeup. Head on out." I began brushing my hair. "Go on then. But leave John and his date alone!"

"And one note, the slit on your skirt is way too high." He said squeezing my hand one last time. "And all the men are looking at your assets instead of listening to you. Not to mention, their girlfriends are liking their ogling you."

I laughed lightly, wiping my eyes. "Sherlock. Go!"

He trotted out of the room and I began powdering under my eyes. I smiled as I casually began singing quietly. _So who needs roses or stuff like that? So who wants chocolates, they'd make me fat? And I can get along just fine, without a gushing valentine. And I'll get by kid, with just the guy, kid. So, if he calls me and it's collect, Sir Matthew Crawley, I don't expect! _

I stopped. That settled it! I was loosing my mind. Sherlock was no way like Matthew Crawley and I haven't forgiven Dan Stevens for leaving Downton Abbey! I'd had a huge crush on him and he'd broken my heart when he'd left the series. Sherlock had the power to break my heart and crush it mercilessly. But this time, it was real life, not a T.V Series, and there was no writer to insure my happy ending.

_And though I may be left out on limb. _I picked up Robert's crushed roses and smiled sadly. _Who needs roses….that didn't come from him?_ I dropped them in the wastebasket, biding that part of my life goodbye.


	6. 6: Breaking character

Chapter Six

Breaking character

I came home, my feet were killing me, but my heart was light as I opened the door just as John was coming out of the door. "Hello!" I said brightly.

"Hi Tammy," he said cheerfully. The sounds of gunfire caused us to jump. "Oh God." He and I raced up the stairs keeping low. It wasn't surprising to me that it was Sherlock taking pot shots at the wall. "What the…Hell do you think you're doing?!" John shouted at Sherlock, who was sprawled in his chair. Sherlock didn't even glance at John. He mumbled something that I didn't hear clearly. "What?"

"Bored!" Sherlock shouted jumping up from his chair. John covered his ears and I followed his example as Sherlock took more shots at the wall. "Bored!" BANG! "Bored!"

"I think we've seen that you're bored."

John hastened into the room and took the gun from Sherlock and I exhaled in relief. I stared at the wall, seeing he'd painted a yellow smiley face up on the wall. I shook my head as I examined it. I decided to try hot water first, then, take a look around and see if Mrs. Hudson had the wallpaper for this room.

"I don't know what's gotten into the criminal classes these days." He muttered walking up to wall. "Only glad I'm not one of them."

"Same here." I commented as I began removing my coat. "Your brain is definitely needed on the good side."

"So you take it out on the wall?" John asked.

"Oh, the wall had it come." He swiped at the wall before dramatically, flopping onto the couch. He began rearranging the cushions to suit his comfort. I turned my back to Sherlock, but I know he'd know that I was laughing at him due to my shaking shoulders. A wall is a wall. What could it have possibly done to earn Sherlock's wrath?

"How about that Russian case?" John asked

"Belarus, open and shut domestic murder," he said grabbing a magazine. "not worth my time."

"Oh, shame." John went to the kitchen. "Anything in I'm starving?"

"If not John, I'll make something."

"Thanks Tammy. Oh!" John half-shouted and half-groaned as he slammed the refrigerator door shut after opening it.

"John?" I asked.

He reopened the refrigerator door, there was a long pause, and then he mumbled. "There's a head."

"A what?" I asked.

"A severed head."

"Just tea for me thanks." Sherlock said.

I still wasn't registering what was being said john. "A head of what?"

"There's a head in the fridge, a bloody head!"

"Yes." Sherlock stated as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

Dawn broke on me. "There's a human head in the refrigerator at this moment?!"

"Where else was I supposed to put it?" Sherlock asked drolly. At that moment, it was so ridiculous that several snickers snuck out. "You don't mind do you?" I started laughing loudly as I sank onto the arm of the nearest chair. "Got it from Bart's morgue."

"It's not funny Tammy." John said.

"I'm sorry." I said between laughs. "But…if two could just…hear yourselves, you'd be laughing too! What's the head for Sherlock?"

"I'm measuring the coagulation of saliva after death."

"See John," I said between laughter as I stood up and went to put the teakettle on. "it makes perfect sense. Disgusting, yet it makes sense, considering it's Sherlock."

Sherlock changed the subject. "I see you've written up the taxi driver case."

"Er, uh yes."

"A study in pink?" I could tell from Sherlock's tone that he detested the title. "Nice."

"Well, you know pink lady. Pink case. Pink phone. Did you like it?"

"Uhhmmm," Sherlock drew it out before delivering the final blow. "noo."

"I liked it John." I stated. John had allowed me to read it before posting it to his blog. I'd thought it was very good.

"Thank you." John turned to Sherlock. "Why not? I'd think you'd be flattered."

"Flattered?" Sherlock crumbled his magazine. "Sherlock sees through everything and everyone in seconds. What's incredible though is that he's spectacularly ignorant his is about some things."

I blinked. "Did you really say that John? I don't recall reading that!"

"I revised quite a bit of it after letting you read it." He explained. "Now hang on a minute Sherlock. I didn't mean that-

"Oh you meant spectacularly ignorant in a nice way? Look, it doesn't matter to me who's Prime Minister or who's been sleeping with who-

"Or that the earth goes around the sun?" John filled in.

"Oh not that again. It's not important!"

"Not important? It's primary school stuff! How can you not know that?"

"Sherlock doesn't know that the earth goes around the sun?" I grinned as he scowled at me. "I learn something new about you every day Sherlock!"

"Oh shut up Tammy, if I did know it," he defended himself. "I deleted it."

"Deleted it?" John asked.

"Listen," Sherlock sat up. "this is my hard drive and it only makes sense to put things in there that are really useful. Ordinary people fill their heads with all kinds of rubbish. And that makes it hard to get at the things that matter. Do you see?"

I nodded. "If you think about it really doesn't make a huge change in our life. People survived for years without know the earth went around the sun. John, if you think about it there really isn't a good reason for us know that we go around the sun."

"But it's the solar system!"

I laughed at John's protest and Sherlock's groan of aggravation. "Oh Hell! What does that matter? So we go around the sun! If we went around the moon or round and round the garden like a teddy bear, it wouldn't make any difference! All that matters to me is the work! Without that my brain rots." He ran his hands through his hair. "Put that in the blog or better yet, stop inflicting your opinions on the world." Sherlock flipped onto his side, turning his back to john.

"Sherlock." I scolded and I turned to John. "I thought it was a flattering blog John, it was very nice. Personally," I glowered at Sherlock's back. "I thought you made Sherlock out to be a little too nice."

"Thanks." John jumped up from his chair.

Sherlock spun around as John went towards the door. "Where are you going?" I rolled my eyes at the surprise in his voice.

"Out!" He said, grabbing his jacket. "I need some air."

"Honestly Sherlock." I said as I walked towards him. "Did you expect John to stay after you hurt his feelings like that? He didn't mean anything by it."

Sherlock didn't answer me as Mrs. Hudson entered the room. "Hello Sherlock, Tammy!"

"Hello Mrs. Hudson."

"Tammy, thank you for paying for a new washing machine for me. You didn't have to do that."

"Nonsense Mrs. Hudson. I had the money and it was my privilege. You've been so kind and done so much for us that I was glad to return the favor."

Sherlock got up and walked up and over the coffee table, causing me to roll my eyes. Sherlock had some of the oddest inhuman habits of any person. But, it was those little things that made him quite endearing. I joined Mrs. Hudson in helping her put the groceries away.

"Don't bother dear." She said sweetly. "You talk with Sherlock." She added in a lower voice. "He really likes talking to you, he can't stand to admit it."

"Look at that Mrs. Hudson." Sherlock said from the window. We both looked in his direction. "Quiet, calm, peaceful. Isn't it hateful?"

"If it's noise you want, I'll be happy to provide you with some."

I expected a retort from Sherlock, but he didn't offer me one. Since that night we kissed in my dressing room, he'd shrunk in his shell. It was getting annoying for me. I missed the cheerful banter and arguments between us.

"Oh, I'm certain something will turn up Sherlock." Mrs. Hudson said. "A nice murder, that will cheer you up."

"Can't come to soon." Sherlock mumbled.

"Careful what you wish for." I said. "Wishes can come true." Sherlock kept his back to me and continued gazing out of the window.

"Hey!" Mrs. Hudson said. "What have you done to my bloody wall?" Sherlock simply turned and smiled that, 'I'm all innocent' smile/smirk of his. I rolled my eyes and attempted to hide my giggle but I was failing miserably. "I'm putting this on your rent young man!"

I shook my head. "Sherlock. Honestly!" I stood before him, attempting to look stern. "A yellow smiley face? Don't tell me that's the paint from your last case?"

"Possibly." He said, the corners of his mouth were turned up slightly, as if he were attempting not to smile.

"You must have been terrible as a child." I smirked. "Did you paint the walls in your nursery by any chance?"

"No comment."

"I painted my mother's piano when I was little. I put pink hand prints all over it." I said with a persuasive smile, I knew Sherlock was lying about painting. He painted something, it wasn't his nursery wall, but it was something. "An Alma-Tadema Steinway."

"Now that I think on it, I do recall attempting to repaint Vincent Van Gogh's 'Starry, Starry Night' on mother's blue bedroom carpet. I'd been left to my own devices and-"

"You were bored." I finished for him.

Suddenly there was a huge explosion that blew the windows behind Sherlock out with one terrific flash and bang! The impact of the explosion caused Sherlock to fly forward into me, knocking me flat on my back. Our forehead's bumped smartly and my ears began ringing with the sounds of car and fire alarms going off. Sherlock groaned loudly and shook his head.

I groaned as his weight cushioned me into the carpet. "Don't open your eyes. Are you ok?" Sherlock actually sounded concerned to my ears, but I couldn't see his face as he began brushing glass and dirt off my face. "Don't move."

"What just happened? I know it was an explosion, but what kind? A bomb?"

"Possibly. You can open your eyes now."

I opened my eyes and I immediately spied broken glass and dirt in his curls. "I'll return the favor." I began brushing them out of his hair. "You've got glass all in your hair and dirt about your face."

"Wouldn't dream of it." Sherlock said. "This is rather interesting position we find ourselves in."

My hands stilled and my blood ran cold as I realized that Sherlock did have me pinned in a rather compromising position. I cleared my throat and continued brushing the glass out of his hair. "Depends on if your mind at this moment is or isn't in the gutter."

"I'm impressed."

"That my mind isn't in the gutter?"

"No." He studied me harder. "That you're doing a good job of hiding your emotions."

"I'm a singer, acting is part of the job." I finally made full eye contact and my heart froze in my chest. I licked my lips and Sherlock's eyes went down to my mouth. "Now, are you going to get off me, or were you just getting comfortable?"

Sherlock smirked. "It actually is quite comfortable."

My blood ran cold. He wasn't really saying such things to me in a moment like this? "Please, get off me, there are people injured and you're practically propositioning me!"

"Well I could be."

"Sherlock!" I screeched.

"I could be, in fact I might be." Oh, dear God, he looked so serious! "If I were, would it make a difference to you?"

"If I were that kind of woman, which I'm not, I might be interested." I hit his shoulder. "Now get off me!" He did as I asked and he even helped me up. "Thank you!"

I brushed my dress off as Sherlock studied me. "Am I to understand you've never had sex before?"

My ears went red and my mouth opened in shock. "That's none of your business!"

"You haven't!" He grinned and laughed. "Why on earth not?"

"For the same reason you haven't Sherlock." I began unbuttoning my coat. "I just haven't found the right one that I'd give my virginity to." He nodded thoughtfully. "I've deduced now that I'll be certain he's the right man when I find that he'll be hard to say 'no' to. Robert was way too easy to say no to."

"Possible deduction."

"Besides, I am not giving my virginity away until I'm married." I stumbled to the window, minding the broken glass and looked out it. My blood ran cold at the sight of the building in shambles. "Oh good Lord. There are people injured out there and we're talking about….never mind what we were talking about! Sherlock, get the coffee pot going and get some blankets."

"No."

"And then check on Mrs. Hudson. Ask her for her coffee pot and teakettle as well!"

"I said no."

I wasn't in the mood for this. I got up in his face shouted. "You will do whatever the bloody Hell I tell you do and I won't hear any back talk from you either!"

Sherlock stared at me, clearly stunned. "You just swore at me."

"Damn right I did!" He flinched. "There are people who may be hurt and injured! Not to mention the firemen and police are going to be busy all night! Now, do as I said!" He didn't say anything, but I could tell that he was going to do as I asked.

Without waiting, I raced up the stairs, unbuttoning the back of my dress as I went up. I threw it on the floor and grabbed the first shirt and pair of pants I saw. Purple pants and an orange shirt. Then, I put on my boots on, grabbed my teakettle, coffeepot and ran down to Sherlock's flat. Sherlock had kettle singing on the stove and the coffeepot was going. I plugged my coffeepot in beside his and began measuring out the coffee grounds. Sherlock stepped alongside me, completely dressed now.

"I'll do this." He took the measurer from me. "Get the water boiling."

"Thanks." I stepped aside from him, my hand tingling from where he touched me. I shook it off, filled up the teakettle, then put the water on the stove. I reached inside the refrigerator, past the severed head to grab the milk. I actually knocked the poor person's head over and had to resteady it.

Sherlock was studying me closely. "What's the milk for?"

"Cocoa. There may be children injured and not all people like tea and coffee."

"I can do that." He said stepping towards me. Again, his hand covered mine.

"Good." I moved away from him and glanced around the apartment, spying the stack of blankets on Sherlock's chair I went towards them. But Sherlock stopped me with a hand on my waist. "Let me pass."

"In a moment. You just swore at me, twice, you said you're against swearing and in the weeks you've been living here, you've never sworn. Even with your ex-boyfriend, you never said a foul word against him." I trembled as he began breaking down my emotions. He turned me towards him, forcing me to face him. "You broke character and in all these weeks I've known you, you've never shouted at me like that before."

"We shout at each other all the time."

"Yes, but we don't mean it. This time, you did. Just now, when you touched the head in the refrigerator, you didn't react. You didn't scream or say it was disgusting. Any female would scream, rush over to the nearest sink and scrub their hands within a hairline of drawing blood. You didn't."

"I didn't think of it."

"Because your mind is on something else. Something that is distracting you." Those eyes of his probed mine. "This bombing must register on a personal level. I'm aware of how your father died, but you never speak of your mother's death." I flinched and dropped my gaze. He caught my chin in his hand and made me look up at him. "Just now, you avoided my gaze. Your mother died in an explosion didn't she? A bombing?"

"Fine! I'll tell you!" I cut him off and began speaking rapidly. I tightly folded my arms around my chest. "My grandmother was dying, so mom went to New York to see her. They hadn't spoken in years and they wanted to say their farewells." Tears prickled my eyes. "But before going, she just _had _to visit a friend who just happened to work in the World Trade Center."

Sherlock nodded, he understood. "September 11th?"

"Yes."

"I am sorry."

I pulled away from him. "I've got to go. Bring down the blankets and the various beverage supplies from my flat please."

"As you wish," I turned and walked away when he spoke my name softly. "Tammy."

I paused in the doorway for a moment, that's when I felt his arms go around my waist. I gasped and trembled as Sherlock pinned me against his body in a sort of hug. He didn't say anything, but he didn't have to. I knew that this was his silent way of offering me comfort. Expressing all the words he wanted to say, but couldn't bring himself to say. I leaned my head back against his chest, as he ran his a hand down my hair. I couldn't have been more surprised when I felt him press a kiss against my forehead; I broke away and hurried down the stairs without a second glance.

I was going insane, imagining things between us. It was at that moment I decided that I had to get away from Baker Street for a while. Some personal space between Sherlock and myself would help my heart freeze again.

* * *

**I'm giving a shout out about a fic by a newcomer to Fanfiction. 'The younger Adler' by 'Creatively Destructive.' It's their first Sherlock fic, I won't say much, just that it's an 'M' fic and Irene's younger sister. **


	7. 7: When a man wants to kiss a woman

Chapter seven

When a man wants to kiss a woman

"Miss," the police officer, Charles Baker, asked me for the third time. "are you sure you're all right?"

I nodded. "I'm fine." I coughed. "You're all the one's who need help."

I'd been out here for hours. Keeping the police officers, paramedics, fire fighters, and less injured people warm and satisfied. Sherlock kept an eye on the tea, cocoa and coffee levels, keeping them full. Mrs. Hudson was surprised and even asked me what kind of spell I'd put on him. Sherlock had smirked while I shrugged it off. Mrs. Hudson, had gone to bed around 1:00, exhausted.

"You keep coughing." He observed. "Maybe you should rest for a while."

"It's my allergies." I assured him between my coughs. "I was cursed with being allergic to cold air. I've got to go. A few more people need refills, then I'll take my medicine."

"You're a regular Florence Nightingale."

"Thank you."

I turned and began making my rounds again. Truth to be told, I was exhausted. I'd gotten up at four-yesterday morning. And a quick glance at my watched told me that I'd gone almost 24 hours without sleep. My coughing was getting constant now; the air was freezing cold. My lungs felt like an ice lump and I was determined to make myself a cocoa and get a gulp before venturing out here again.

I stumbled over a brick and strong arms caught me around the waist. "Thank you." When I was swept into those arms and I turned to see Sherlock was holding me. "Sherlock! Put me down!" He ignored me and moved towards the flat. "Please! Put me down!"

"No."

"Sherlock!"

"Enough is enough," he stated as if he were my doctor. "you need to rest."

"Sherlock, I appreciate the personal interest-

"Then accept it." He handed me my inhaler. "Here."

"Hey!" Charles shouted. "You there! Put her down!"

Sherlock turned and shot him an icy glare. "I'm going to put her down as soon as she's situated in bed."

"Sherlock."

"No." He glanced down at me. "You've had no sleep since you woke up almost 24 hours ago. I shouldn't have let you stay up this late anyway."

"It's my body and I know how much it can take!" Sherlock rolled his eys. "What time is it?"

"Almost 2:00. It's freezing out here and you could develop pneumonia in weather like this. Your lungs are weak enough as is."

"Sherlock," I coughed. "I'm fine."

"Tell me that without coughing." He stated before shooting a glare at Charles. "Unless you wish to repay her kindness by allowing her to get sick, you'll let me put her back in her flat."

Charles looked at me. "Do you know him?"

"Yes. I do."

"Ok. I just wanted to make sure." He smiled. "I hope we'll see each other again."

I nodded and opened my mouth to reply. "Shut up." Sherlock said. "You've talked enough. No more cold air."

I waved over Sherlock's shoulder at Charles and smiled at him. Once inside, Sherlock began carrying me up the stairs. "I can walk."

"It's a miracle you can. Your feet must be frozen."

"But I'm too heavy for you!"

"You weigh approximately 125 lbs." He stated. "And I'm a lot stronger than I look."

I groaned and blushed. "Oh for heaven's sake Sherlock! Can't I have any privacy when I'm around you?"

"No. That's a consequence that you shall have to deal with if you insist on hanging around with me."

"Actually," now was a good time to mention it. "these last few days I was thinking of taking an extended trip. Visiting some relatives up north."

He set me on the couch and ordered. "Don't move." He went towards the kitchen. "You don't have any relatives, you told me that all ready."

"I don't disclose all my private life to you."

"I know for a fact that I don't have any relatives Tammy. Except for a brother that you haven't seen for over ten years. Now, why don't you tell me why you're really leaving?"

"Sherlock." I got up from the couch and turned to face him. "I don't have to tell you any of my-

"I distinctly remember telling you to sit down and not to move." I rolled my eyes and flopped back on the couch. I hadn't realized how tired I was until I sat down again. I yawned and looked up as Sherlock handed me a hot raspberry cocoa. "Here."

"Thank you." He sat down on the coffee table, pulling my foot up into his lap. I took a sip of the warm beverage to mask my surprise. He pulled off my boots and socks. "Hmm, this tastes great."

He rubbed my feet and his brows knitted together. "Your feet are freezing."

"You mean I actually have feet under all that ice?" I joked.

"Glad to see that your sense of humor is still intact."

"How'd you know that this particular cocoa flavor was my favorite?"

"It was the last one of it's kind in the box. You don't drink coffee and you can't stand to drink your tea hot. You always make yourself a cup of tea, then stick it in the refrigerator."

"Sorry. I like it cold."

"It's the American side of you." Sherlock pulled a pair of what I suspected were his socks up on my frozen feet. He then sat next to me and began to casually rub my shoulders. "You need to keep a part of you true to your American heritage." I knew he was trying to help me warm up, but it was adding to the torture of being painfully aware of how he made me feel. I looked down at my mug, which began to swim before my eyes. "Tammy, why are you crying?"

I rubbed my eyes. "I'm not really crying. I'm just more tired than I realize."

"Hmm, just sit here for a minute and you'll feel better."

I doubted that. I closed my eyes, enjoying his touch as his hands on my shoulders ceased their actions. A hand in my hair caused me to tremble. "Sherlock."

"Do you know," he said conversationally. "that you look extremely lovely at this moment Tammy?" My eyes flew open and I released my hold on my coca. Sherlock, fortunately had his hand close by and he kept my cocoa from falling over. "You looked exceptionally beautiful outside."

"I-I look a mess." I could scarcely breathe at this point. "I'm dirty and...I'm sweaty."

"I was watching you, helping everyone. But you knew that didn't you?" I didn't answer, I had sensed his eyes on me, but I thought it was me. "It made you most attractive, holding the crying children, handing blankets and drinks to some of the victims. All the helpers on the scene, especially that Fireman, had their eyes on you." For a second, I thought I'd detected a note of jealousy in his voice. "You were like an angel of mercy on that scene."

"Thank you Sherlock." I wasn't sure what to say in this situation. "Coming from you, that's a…sweet compliment." Sherlock leaned forward, his hand brushing the curls at the nape of my neck. I set my cocoa on the table. "I should go now."

Sherlock grabbed my shoulders and turned me to face him. My heart pounded in my throat, and for a moment I thought I was going to be sick. Sherlock placed his right hand on my neck, rubbing his thumb along the corner of my mouth.

He nudged me forward as if he were preparing to kiss me. I groaned and pulled away, shaking my head. "I really should go to bed now before I make a complete fool of myself."

"Not until I've said this." He stated rationally. "If you're thinking that you imagined that I just tried to kiss you, you'd be wrong." I froze in place. "You didn't imagine it, I did try."

"Sherlock?"

"In fact, I tried twice, but you turned away from me each time."

I stared at him. "Why?" I couldn't believe that he'd just admitted that he tried to kiss me! Me! Why me!?

"I think you should tell me why you kept turning away from me." He said. "An unusual reaction."

"No!" I shook my head in disbelief. "Why? Why would you want to kiss _me_?"

"I think it's a little obvious why a man kisses a woman." He had my full attention now. "And, if you're thinking that every other little gesture that I've shown you is merely casual on my behalf you're wrong." I stared at him. "As a matter a fact, I've rather grown impatient, waiting for you to realize that it was wasn't your imagination running away with you."

Sherlock closed the distance between us, searching my face for any sign of resistance. Finding no resistance, he pulled me close and kissed me. The moment our lips met, the world stopped. Delicious shivers shook my soul and rocked me to my core. I was shocked, fighting the urge to place my hands on him, fearful that this was all a dream that I was about to wake up from.

Sherlock guided my hands to his shoulders and I wrapped my arms around his neck. This kiss was different. It wasn't forced and there was no fighting of the obvious emotions between us. I was still stunned. Sherlock was actually kissing me. He initiated the kiss. He'd actually wanted it! His hand was still on my chin, allowing me to lean into the kiss while his other hand rested on my waist, gently pressing me closer to him. I fear I lost all track of time in this moment.

I gasped as he broke the kiss. It was a simple kiss, beautiful and I blush to admit that it left me aching for more. I shook my head, to realize that my arms were on the front of his chest and I was gripping his lapels.

"Why Sherlock?" I whispered. "Why'd you-"

"To make a point."

"Oh." I released his coat in disappointment. "Another one of your experiments." I wasn't surprised so I moved to get up. "I must be more tired than I thought."

"Stop trying to run away Tammy, cowardice really doesn't suit you. And please try to listen to what I am trying to say." Sherlock grabbed me and pulled me back down onto the seat I kept trying to vacate all evening. He pulled me to the side, draping my legs over his knees. "Now, I want to be able to kiss you without this…awkwardness between us. I find that inspite of myself; these are emotions that I cannot turn off. I've come to the conclusion that the reason that I can't turn them off because I find that I am very attracted to you."

Sherlock was not a romantic; he really didn't know how to talk to a woman. He spoke to me as if he were explaining a complex case to a group of 'idiots'. Yet, the words were more important to me than the lack of emotion behind them.

"I'll never be the normal, perfect or ideal man that most women would dream of but I think that the odds are in our favor of us making it work for us. So, how about it?"

I was silent for a long moment, weighing the options in my hand. Did I want this? Did I really want to enter into a relationship with Sherlock? Was I willing to risk breaking my heart again, just for him? Sherlock studied me. His stiff posture implied that he was waiting for me, a wall around his heart, should I decline him. But I wasn't going to. I did love Sherlock, but the odds of it working were one chance in a million. But then again, wasn't one chance in a million was better than no chance at all?

"Oh, Sherlock." I trailed a hand down his cheek, watching some of the tension leave his shoulders. "I know you'd never be a regular boyfriend and I don't want you to be normal." I smiled as I borrowed one of his favorite quotes. "Normal is boring." He laughed, pulling me close to him. "I'd like to explore these feelings and see where they go."

"I'd also like to state that I won't be the romantic type of lover that most women dream of. I think practically and sensibly."

"Sherlock," I rested my head against his shoulder, closing my eyes for a moment. "this moment…it really is romantic. You don't have to have to have chocolates, roses, wine and a fire to make the moment romantic. Most of the time, just being with that person and holding them close is enough. I know what to expect from you Sherlock and rest assured, I want you to be you."

He pressed a kiss to my forehead. "You're a wonder Tammy. But you're also dead tired." He picked me up and carried me into his bedroom. At once, my pulse picked up as Sherlock deposited me on the bed. He smiled understandingly. "I'll take John's room. You can sleep in here."

I smiled and squeezed his hand. "Thank you Sherlock."

He moved towards his dresser and pulled out one of his familiar dark purple shirts. "Here. You can sleep in this." I accepted it. "You're tired and I doubt you'd appreciate me rooting through your drawers for the appropriate nightdress. Besides, by the time I'd return with it, you'd be asleep."

"Thank you Sherlock." I yawned. "Goodnight."

Sherlock leaned forward and kissed my cheek. "Goodnight." He breathed against my ear. "Tammy." With that, Sherlock left me in his room. My fingers shook as I pulled my clothes off, letting them drop on the floor. I'd never slept in a button down shirt before, but tonight would be a night of many things for me.


	8. 8: He's got a way

Chapter eight

He's got a way

I woke to the sounds of John calling Sherlock's name. I blinked and sat up. A glance at the alarm clock on my bed showed that it was nearly 10:00 in the morning. I got up yawning, put my feet in Sherlock's huge slippers and looked for my clothes. I found a note from Sherlock. _I gave your clothes to Mrs. Hudson, she's washing them. I trust you're going to sleep late, so your clothes should be ready by the time you wake up. _I smiled. I must have been super tired not to hear Sherlock walk in the room. When I was little, my brother would sneak into my room and attempt to prank me. But the moment his hand touched the doorknob, I was awake.

I looked around the room and found his blue robe hanging on the back of his bedroom door. I pulled it on and tied it around my waist. It smelled good; Sherlock always wore this mysterious, forest, woodsy type of cologne.

Before exiting, I had the sense to check my hair and face before exiting the room. I came out to see Sherlock had a cross look on his face and was plucking at his violin. There was also another man in the room, talking to John. John held a huge folder of papers and was glancing at them.

I flushed and debated on how I could sneak back into the room without being noticed. Sherlock saw me and he flashed me a smile before turning on his emotionless face. "Tammy, come on in here."

At the mention of my name, John and the other man looked in my direction. The other man was a few years older than Sherlock, a little heavy set, and had a face that could curdle dairy. He was studying me in a manner similar to Sherlock's but it was more discomforting.

I stepped out of Sherlock's room. John stared at me in shock. "Good morning."

The other man stared at me. "Who is _she_ Sherlock?"

"Thought you knew everything Mycroft." I guess Sherlock wasn't ready to tell John or whoever this was that we were kinda officially courting/dating. But that didn't matter, when he was ready, he'd tell them.

"She's in your shirt and robe!" Mycroft said.

"Sound deduction," I said. "what else was I to wear? Sherlock took my clothes."

"Tammy," John said. "Sherlock took your-"

"Oh I'm sorry! I should have realized how that sounded. No, I was up all night, I was too tired to get up to my flat, so he let me sleep in his room." I yawned again. "Mrs. Hudson is washing my clothes I believe. "

"I had to force her to got to bed at 2:00 this morning." Sherlock said. "I'm sure you observed that she still looks quite dead to the world."

"Thanks for the compliment, Sherlock. No woman can resist such a compliment." I said as I moved towards the kitchen. I opened the refrigerator door. "Severed head anyone? Coffee! I mean coffee."

"Is that head still in there?" John asked.

"Yep. But I'm used to it by now."

"She's still tired." Sherlock said. "You must have heard about her last night from your spies."

"Ahh," Mycroft said. "this must be the angel of mercy, that helped the paramedics and all the injured last night. Thank you." He stepped forward and extended his hand. "I'm Mycroft Holmes. Sherlock's older brother."

I felt my eyes widen and I looked at John and Sherlock. "I didn't know he had a brother."

"No. Sherlock doesn't talk about me much."

"You don't look anything like him." His eyes studied me, in a much subtler fashion than Sherlock. I glanced at him, to see he was glowering at Mycroft. I stepped away from him. "If you don't mind, I've been deduced by one Holmes brother, I prefer not to be deduced by two."

"As you wish." He turned to Sherlock. "She's fiery isn't she?"

"Oh her bite is worse than her bark." Sherlock said as he continued fiddling with his violin.

"I've got to be going." Mycroft turned to Sherlock. "You've got to find those plans Sherlock." Sherlock snorted and rolled his eyes. "Don't make me order you."

Sherlock ignored Mycroft. "I'd like to see you try."

"That makes two of us." I said. "Brother or not, you can't make Sherlock do anything he doesn't want to do."

Mycroft glared at me. "I suspect that you can get through to Sherlock when need be." John frowned as Mycroft continued. "Sherlock doesn't just let any woman sleep in his shirt, let alone his bed. Dr. Watson was gone, yet you come out of Sherlock's room, not Watson's. Therefore there must be something going on between you two."

"I believe as Sherlock's brother, you must have observed that he does have a human heart, therefore making him susceptible to moments of kindness?"

Mycroft peered down his nose at me. "Really?"

I crossed my arms and studied Mycroft. "You may be the older brother, and while you appear to have inherited some of Sherlock's talents you don't apply them properly." Sherlock looked up at me in curiosity as John's brows furrowed together in confusion. "Judging by your clothes and the way you give yourselves airs, you must obtain an important position in the government. Being related to Sherlock, it must be an important post that requires a bit of brainwork. You appear to be the kind who prefers to solve a case behind a desk instead of using legwork. That much is obvious because you appear to have be," I paused and phrased my words carefully. "carrying…a few more pounds than your average weight requires." Sherlock laughed loudly. "You're the older brother, yet Sherlock, who talks incessantly," I shot him a pointed look and he frowned. "failed to mention. Therefore, you two must not have a good relationship. Why, I don't know, but I must assume the fault lies with you. I can imagine that Sherlock didn't appreciate you bossing him around in his childhood. Am I right so far?"

"It appears that hanging around my brother has been rubbing off on you." Mycroft looked as if he'd inhaled a pickle. "In spite of what you think, I don't boss him around."

"Quote. "Don't make me order you." Unquote." I rolled my eyes. "He may be your younger brother, but he's a grown man, he's moved into his own place and you're going to order him to do something? What else is that but bossing him around?"

"It's an international security threat." Mycroft said. "It's very important."

"It must not be that important, otherwise Sherlock would be shouting how, 'It's Christmas' because of a mystery."

"I now see why Sherlock keeps you around," Mycroft said. "you certainly are a champion for him."

"I'm just naturally a defensive person. If you'd gone off on John, you'd have gotten the same reaction."

"I doubt it."

"Weren't you leaving Mycroft?" Sherlock said.

"I am." He turned towards Sherlock. "Think it over. Bye John." He turned towards me. "I look forward to seeing you again."

I shook his hand. "Well, can't say the feeling's mutual. But I'll see you again."

As our hands dropped Sherlock began playing some random screeching notes on his violin. I winced, as did Mycroft as he gathered his coat and umbrella and left the apartment. Sherlock kept up the noise until Mycroft was gone.

"Sherlock, you've just killed Vivaldi again." I teased as I walked over the chair Mycroft had vacated and sat on the arm of it.

"My apologies." His gaze strayed to my legs, which were exposed, thanks to his robe. I pulled it shut and he smirked at me. I made a face back at him, which he returned. "Good morning."

"Good morning."

So," John asked. "why'd you lie? You've got nothing on. Not a single case. That's why the wall took a pounding. Why did you tell your brother you were busy?"

"Why shouldn't I?" he asked as he rubbed the back of his head with his bow.

"Oh I see. Sibling rivalry, now we're getting somewhere."

"I don't like Mycroft."

"You're just siding with Sherlock." John said.

"No I'm not. I don't like him! It's something about his face. Mainly his nose."

John frowned. "His nose?"

"Yes. You know how everyone's nose turns up when they're trying to smell something?" John nodded. "Well, Mycroft's turns down like he just smelled it!"

Sherlock's phone rang and he brought his bow down with a sharp whoosh. I watched his face, change as he pulled his phone from within his coat pocket. "Sherlock Holmes." He answered it solemnly. Then, he sat up straight and I saw the light of curiosity blaze to life in his eyes. "Of course, how could I refuse?" he clicked his phone off, leaped out of his chair and set his violin behind him on the seat he just vacated. "Lestrade." He approached me. "I've been summoned. Coming John?"

"I-if you want me to."

"Of course. I'd be lost without my blogger." Sherlock turned to me as he draped his coat over his arm. "And I suppose you'll be at your club all day?"

"Yes. I'll clean up the flat before I go."

"Thanks Tammy." John said. "That's really sweet of you."

"I don't mind." I smiled at them; part of me wanted to give Sherlock a quick kiss on the cheek before he vanished. But he probably wouldn't want me to do that in front of John.

"Oh just go ahead and do it Tammy." Sherlock said stepping forward. "We probably won't see each other until tomorrow."

"All right, mind reader." I stretched up and kissed the corner of his mouth. "Good morning. Goodbye. Good luck and be safe!"

"You be safe too." He turned on his heel. "Come on John, and do close your mouth!"

John stared at me with his mouth open. "What did I miss?"

I laughed and hugged him. "Go on John. You be safe too."

"So Mycroft wasn't wrong?"

"I'll let Sherlock explain. Go!"

"Oh and Tammy, your phone's dying." Sherlock said. "I entered my number into your phone if you'd need me. Make sure you text me yours."

"Sure. And I'll think up a password so you can't guess it!"

"Don't bet on that."

I smiled. "I'm putting all my eggs in one basket Sherlock, I'm betting everything I got on you guessing my new password."

* * *

_He comes to me when I'm feeling down, inspires me without a sound. He touches me and I get turned around._

I sat at on the steps of stage, with a red spotlight shining down on me. I'd purchased a new white dress that looked quite stunning. I was singing one of my favorite songs, 'He's got a way,' there was a time when I was younger that I'd dedicated the chorus to my brother Johnny. But now, I was a lot older, maturer, and now, I had Sherlock dominating my brain for this song.

_He's got a smile that heals me; I don't know what it is. But I have to laugh when he reveals me. He's got a way about him; I don't know what it is. But I know that I can't live without him._

The applause was loud and I know I did a good enough job to give Bernadette peters a run for her money because of the mood I was in. I hummed the song all the way back to my dressing room. Upon entering, I realized that there was a familiar young man sitting at my makeup table. He stood up and approached me with a simple bouquet of pale peach roses. I made a mental note to up the security around here.

As he approached me, he smiled broadly. "Hullo Tammy."

"Thank you."

"If I remember correctly," he handed me the roses. "these used to be your favorite when you were younger."

I stared at him. "Yes." I hesitated. "They were-

"Mother's favorite too, I know." I must admit that now I was starting to creep out. "This was mother's too. _He_ gave it to her on their anniversary…before she died. It reads, 'till death to us part,' hardly original."

My heart pounded as light began to break slowly over me. It couldn't be. He grinned. A cocky grin that the back of my heart remembered. The longer I stared into his eyes, the more obvious it became to me that this was my brother Johnny.


	9. 9: Johnny, Mind Reader, Batman

Chapter nine

Johnny, Mind Reader, Batman and the kitten

I sat in my dressing room numbly as Johnny sat there, watching me. He'd changed so much. He was handsome, but not super tall, in fact, we were almost the same height, but then I also had my heels on. He kinda reminded me of Paul Mccartney, but just a little bit. Due to his appearance, part of me questioned his sexuality, he might be gay, but I wasn't sure.

"So," I asked. "how'd you find me? It's been…years."

"Actually, I was just walking by." He said. "Your poster…took me by surprise."

"Oh, it's a wonder I didn't faint when you approached me out there!"

"I knew you wouldn't." he grinned. "It takes a lot to make you faint."

"Thank you Johnny."

"Your singing has improved. You sang that song like you're in love." His eyes narrowed. "Are you in love?"

I smiled. "I could be."

"Who is he?"

"Wait a minute, it's rather soon to be talking about who my boyfriend is. You haven't told me anything about yourself! Like, I don't even know where you've been, what you've been doing. Where have you been?" Curiosity waned to tears. "It's been twelve years. And not once, did you contact me!"

"I didn't know where you were."

"And you couldn't call the company?"

"Not while _he _was still alive."

I frowned at Johnny. "Father is dead Johnny. I've been alone this last year."

He didn't show any emotion, for it wasn't in him. I was seven and he was thirteen when our parents married. I loved his mother but he never grew to love my father. It was odd, for he bonded with me. When we went to school, he protected me from bullies for years. When my prom date broke up with me, publicly, at the prom, he'd decked him, chipping a few of his teeth. But the day after mother died, he'd left, hadn't said a word to me, hadn't even left a note.

"I'm sorry that you've been alone." He stated. "But I never liked him. You know that."

I nodded. "I wish you'd have tried. Father really was wonderful."

Johnny frowned. "He wasn't _my_ father."

"I know. Why did you leave Johnny?"

"I didn't want to see him again."

"You hurt me." I said. "You promised mother before she left…that you'd look after me. You'd take care of me."

His face fell. "I broke that one didn't I? I'm a selfish bastard," I frowned at his choice of words, but couldn't disagree that the words he choose described his actions perfectly. "I'll make it up to you."

I nodded. "I don't think I'll need to extract a promise from you, but I'll set it aside for the time being." I cleared my throat and folded my hands. "So, what do you do for a living? As you can tell, I'm singing and I'm raking in my share of money from the winery."

"I'm a….government agent. I can't get into really, you know? Top secret." His phone rang and this funky sounding music played. I frowned. "Sorry. Got to take this." I nodded and turned towards my mirror. "What? Really?" He turned towards me. "I've got to go. Trouble."

I nodded. "I understand. Go on ahead!"

"I'll be back tomorrow."

"Ok. Goodbye!"

Actually, I didn't see John, Sherlock or my brother Johnny for the next three days. He left a note at the club, with his number. We texted every now and then, he was off on an undercover case and couldn't really be bothered. But when he'd drop me a line at night, I'd always answer him. Then, one morning I turned on my television set on to see that there had been another gas explosion in another building. It ripped through several floors, killing twelve people. I flipped off my T.V Set and decided to see if Sherlock and John were downstairs.

Fortunately, they were. But John was shouting at Sherlock and I hesitated outside the door for a moment. "There are lives at stake here Sherlock, actual human lives! Just so I know, do you care about that at all?"

"Will caring about them help save them?"

"Nope."

"Then I'll continue not to make that mistake."

Those words caused me to pause. Sherlock had basically said that caring for someone, in his line of work was a mistake. Then, why'd he ask me to give things a try with him? Was it a mistake on his part? Was I a mistake? Were these feelings he had for me a mistake? And if they all were mistakes, could these mistakes be rectified?

"And you find that easy do you?"

"Yes. Very. Is that news to you?"

"No. No!"

"I've disappointed you."

"That's good. That's a good deduction there."

"Don't make people into heroes John. Heroes don't exist and if they did I wouldn't be one of them."

John groaned and I tapped lightly on the on the door. Both heads went towards me. "Hi guys."

"Hello Tammy." John said.

Sherlock was more pointed. "How long were you standing there?"

"Long enough."

"How long?"

I crossed my arms. "Since, John…asked if you cared anything about the human lives at stake."

He frowned. "And you heard my reply?"

"Yes."

"I've disappointed you too then?"

"Not really, I was expecting something like that from you. I'm just confused at this moment and I'm attempting to decipher you."

"Why?"

"If it's a mistake to care about people, then," I sat down in the chair John had vacated. "why, did we have that discussion about us a few days ago? Am I mistake then? If not now, then could I be?"

Sherlock's phone went off, sparing him the trouble of answering me. He muttered something and began frantically punching keys on his phone. John looked at me. "What is going on between you two Tammy? Sherlock didn't say anything to me a few days ago."

I shrugged. "It's not my news to share. It's Sherlock's news and when he feels comfortable sharing it, then you'll know."

"I've all ready gathered that there's something going on between you two." He said. "But you two aren't….involved are you?"

I glanced at Sherlock; he was focused on his phone, oblivious of what John had asked. As much I wanted to answer John's question, I shook my head. "Not really. What is going on anyway? I saw the gas explosion."

"It's a bomber." John explained. "The building across from us was a bombing as well."

I stared at him. "What? Why?"

John frowned. "I'm not really sure. But it definitely involves Sherlock. This…maniac has been giving Sherlock puzzles to solve in a certain number of hours. He then finds a hostage, decks them in explosives and if Sherlock fails, it's curtains for them."

"Oh dear god! And the last one-

"The victim started to describe the bomber, so, he killed her."

"All right John, let's go." Sherlock said. "I got sent a photo of the Thames, so dress warmly."

"Let me go grab my coat." I said. "I'm coming too."

Sherlock stopped dead in his tracks. "Oh no, you're definitely not going."

I stared at him. "What? Sherlock, I can help, I'd like to-"

"No Tammy!" He shouted at me. I blinked, surprised by the firmness in his voice. "I don't want you anywhere near John and I! In fact, promise me you'll stay in the flat until this whole things is over!"

I didn't like this; I didn't like it at all. I knew that Sherlock wouldn't be acting like this unless the danger was real. Or, maybe he was just concerned for my welfare and he didn't want this man to know I was a part of his life now. I wanted to fight, but at the moment, Sherlock had enough pressure without me adding to it.

"Now Sherlock," John snapped. "you're not in control of her."

"John," I asked patiently. "I can answer for myself." I turned towards him. I could tell that he was expecting a fight from me. "I promise Sherlock. I won't leave until you say I may leave."

The tension left Sherlock's shoulders and he nodded. "All right."

"But," I said. "I do have one errand to run later this evening." He frowned. "If you want me to break it, I will."

"What is it?"

"I found my brother."

He stared at me. "When was this?"

"Three days ago and, I'd liked to get him a present. If you're worried about me getting kidnapped, I'll activate the GPS in my phone and I'll take it with me. I'll text my email and password to you so you can track me if you need to find me.""

"Where are you going?"

"There's a little shop in the southern part of London. It's a crummy neighborhood, I know, but the presents in that shop are unique."

"Name of the shop?"

"Little slice of Heaven?"

"When would you be leaving?"

"About 3:00, the traffic isn't so bad down there. And Mrs. King, she owns the shop, I've given her so much business that she invited me to have tea with her. May I go?"

"This is absurd!" John said. "You're a grown woman! You don't have to ask _his _permission for anything!"

"I know this John." I explained. "And I'm only going to let Sherlock worry about it this once. If Sherlock is concerned that it's dangerous for me, then he has a right to question my safety." I held his gaze. "I trust him with my life."

Sherlock was silent for a long time before responding. "You win Tammy, go ahead."

"Thank you. John, could you leave us for a moment?"

"We've got to go." Sherlock stated.

"This will only take a moment."

John exhaled. "Fine! But I'd like to know what's going on between you two soon!"

I walked up to Sherlock; his eyes studied me suspiciously. "What is so important that you couldn't say in front of John?"

"Nothing." I stretched up on tiptoe, wrapped my arms around Sherlock's neck and kissed him on the lips. I felt him start, then I felt his hands cup my elbows. It wasn't a long kiss; it was a brief kiss. I pulled away. "You needed a better good luck kiss than the last one I gave you." I patted his coat lapels. "Now, go get them, Mind Reader!"

He rubbed my chin between his thumb and index finger. "I want to talk to you when I get back Riddler."

"I'll be waiting!"

* * *

It had been a nice afternoon, I'm afraid I stayed longer than I had intended. But Mrs. King was such a sweet lady, and I'd insisted on helping her clean up. She had a marvelous book collection and I'd remember that when growing up, Johnny had loved Batman. So, I decided on purchasing an original Batman comic book. Mrs. King let me have it at a discounted price.

As I walked down past Vauxhall Arches, I heard a cat meowing. I paused and looked around. There was a black car in the alleyway and it was running. I know I promised Sherlock that I wouldn't do anything, but I could see the kitten. It was playing in a box behind the lit up car and my conscience wouldn't allow me to walk away from it. I walked past the car, keeping an eye on it from the corner of my eye. I'd swiped one of John's guns from his room. Him being a military man, I suspected he had more than one lying around. It took a few tries for me to load the gun, but I'd seen enough westerns to know how to operate whatever kind of gun this was.

The kitten didn't run as I picked it up. It was a dirty, little thing, but I'm sure I could find someone to take the kitten in. The sound of footsteps caused me to look around and I saw this man, close to seven feet running at me. I backed away and began to reach in my purse for John's gun. Call me crazy, but the look on this man's face suggested that something was wrong. But the kitten made that task a lot harder to accomplish. Next thing I knew, the man had me by the arm and he threw me in the backseat of his car!

I screamed and the kitten let out a decisive screech of its own. I reached for the doorknob, but he grabbed my arm in a deathlike grip. I spun around and saw Sherlock and John behind us in the alleyway!

"SHERLOCK!" I screamed.

His head shot up and I caught a glimpse of the shock and actual fright in his eyes. "Go!" The horrible man ordered his driver. The car bolted and he turned towards me. "Can't have any witnesses. Especially one who knows Sherlock Holmes."

I screamed as his hands circled my throat. Suddenly, the driver shouted. "Stop! The boss says not to kill her!"

Bigfoot's hands hesitated on my throat. "Why?" Bigfoot leaned forward and peered at the laptop that had a blocked out image. I could tell that the man could see us, but not him.

The 'boss' typed out on the laptop. It said, don't hurt her. If you do, you and what's left of your family will regret it.

"Fine." He turned to me and shook a threatening finger. "You better shut up, or I'll break that thing's neck!"

I nodded in terror. I had John's gun, but now wasn't the time to use it. I wasn't in a good position to shoot the man. I had to wait and bide my time.


	10. 10: Slaying the Golem

Chapter ten

Slaying the Golem

I was dragged from the car, into the Hickman Museum. Fortunately this Bigfoot hadn't taken my purse from me, so the gun was still there. But when the door opened, the frightened kitten ran out, so it was all for nothing.

"Now," he hissed. "you better shut up!"

With that, he pushed the swinging doors open, dragged me through several corridors and I found myself in a sort of planetarium room.

A middle aged woman spun around, shielding her eyes from the projections. "Tom, is that you?" The man's grip on me tightened and I hit him, struggling to loosen his grip. But he was way too strong for me and I was certain that it would take four men to get him down with their bare hands. The woman turned her back to me and resumed her business. I was helpless to do anything as he caught ahold of the poor woman around the mouth and let me go. I fell to the ground, my throat burned as I gasped for air.

"GOLEM!" My heart jumped as I heard Sherlock shout at the man. The man froze, and then I heard a loud crunch as he snapped the woman's neck. I screamed in terror as her body slumped down next to me.

"Sherlock!"

"Tammy!" Sherlock shouted. "Are you all right?"

"Sherlock!" I screamed as the Golem vanished in the darkness. "Look out!"

From the sounds Sherlock was making, it sounded as if my warnings came too late. I pulled myself up to see the Golem had Sherlock around the throat just as the music crescendo built loudly.

"JOHN!" I screamed. "JOHN! HELP!"

My screams grew as I watched Sherlock try to break out of that animal's hold. "Golem!" John shouted as he leaped out of nowhere, gun pointed at Golem's head. O stopped screaming slowly. "Let him go, or I _will_ kill you."

I held my breath, seconds stretched into hours waiting for the Golem to make his move. Then, when he did, I wished he hadn't. He threw Sherlock to the side, kicked the gun out of John's hand and went for John! John got thrown aside and I watched as Sherlock jumped up and took a swing at Golem.

Sherlock was knocked to ground with a single blow. The music sounded like mad, scrambled circus tune and the lights flashed and changed repeatedly. I let out a shriek as once again Golem tried to strangle Sherlock. _Where was security?! How could anyone NOT be hearing this!? _

I reached for my purse, pulled out John's gun and decided to make a break towards the exit to go get more help. I glanced up just in time to see John leap atop of Golem's back, looking like a child clinging to a massive sequoia tree. The Golem dislodged John, grabbed Sherlock, by the seat of his pants and hurdled him in the direction of John.

The man, then ran to the nearest exit, which ensured that he'd run by me. I ducked and threw myself to the ground. Perfect timing, for John fired a few gunshots at Golem.

When all shots seemed to do no good, I bit my lip, aimed and fired. To my shock and surprise, I actually shot the man somewhere. He fell like a tree to the ground.

I stayed down until I heard approaching footsteps and Sherlock's commanding voice. "John! Lights! Now!"

I dropped the gun and tears fell down my cheeks in relief. The lights came on and I saw John run over to Golem's moving figure. I stood up and John started. "Tammy? Thank God!" he took the gun from me. "Are you all right?"

I nodded just I heard Sherlock walking briskly towards me. I tried not to let out an audible sob, but I failed as he pulled me into his arms. Sherlock gave me a slight shake as he tightly held onto me. "What were you doing down here?!" His tone changed from soft to demanding. "You should have been home by now!"

I wrapped my arms around his neck and I closed my eyes. "I'm sorry."

"Why?" He shouted. "Why can't you do as I ask you?!"

I know he was upset and I should have known how terrifying it was for him to see me get dragged off by a killer. But then, he should be extending the same courtesy towards me! "You said I could go!" I shouted back at him. "Remember?! So don't go pining this on me!"

"You talked me into it!" He shouted back at me.

"I asked you politely!" I planted my hands on my hips and stepped away from him. "Besides, you're a foot taller than me and you've stated many times that your intellect is far superior than mine! You could have said no!"

"What kind of man would I be if I dishonored a request like the one you put to me?"

"Can we save this for later?" John asked. "Sherlock-"

"Sherlock, call Lestrade!" I snapped as I moved towards the nearest chair. "I'm going to sit down!" He moved towards me and I snapped at him. "Not now Sherlock! I want a moment's peace! Please! Back off!"

Sherlock dialed Lestrade, keeping a wary eye on my. "Hickman Gallery Lestrade and bring an ambulance. Yes, we got the Golem. He's alive…for now. Can't make any promises. Bye."

"Aunt Kenny?" I spun around to see…Robert walk through the door.

"Oh God," Sherlock groaned. "not him."

Robert stared at all of us and stepped back shouting. "Security! Security!" He turned towards us. "What are you all doing here?"

"Oh shut up Robert!" I screamed. "For God's sake, I was kidnapped, I had my life threatened and I shot a man all within an hour and I need some silence."

"I shot him." Sherlock said.

"Oh shut up Sherlock!" I shouted. "I did!"

"You didn't have gun!"

"I did too!"

"Actually," John said. "judging by the angle…and size of the hole. She did get him Sherlock."

"See!" I snapped.

Sherlock looked over the Golem's body and laughed. "Ha!"

"What?" I asked. "Did I kill him?"

"Don't worry Tammy," John assured me. "you got him in a good place he'll live…if he doesn't die of embarrassment."

I perked up. "Where'd I shoot him?" John was silent and I shouted. "I want to know!"

"Er…in the…buttocks."

I screamed in outrage. "I can't even shoot in a dignified place!" Sherlock began laughing harder at me. "You shut up!"

"Calm down Tammy." Robert said. "It's all right!"

"No it's not!" I screamed as I began to hyperventilate. "It's not all right! What have I done!? How _did I EVER I get mixed up with you two!?_"

I don't remember saying much after that; I was walking around in a circle, screaming words that didn't really make much sense. Suddenly, two hands spun me around and I vaguely saw Sherlock's face before I was slapped! I screamed at the sting I felt on my face and my senses slowly returned to me. Was I never to stop making a fool of myself in front of Sherlock? Then I heard John shout. I grabbed my cheek and looked up at Sherlock just before he fell to the floor, tackled by Robert! I stared at the two men, yelling at each other as they rolled around on the floor!

"Tammy," John asked. "can please you break that up?"

Robert and Sherlock were still locked in a fight and I approached them. "Will the two of you stop it?!" I demanded. "Please! Sherlock!"

"Tell _him_ to stop!" Sherlock shouted from under Robert. "I didn't start this!"

I grabbed a hold of Robert's fist as he drew it back to hit Sherlock. But knowing Sherlock, he would have dodged it and punched the floor. Possibly fracturing a few fingers in his hands, I shouldn't care, but that would be painful. "Stop it!"

"He hit you!" he shouted. "What else was I do but defend you?"

"I thank you for your defense, but I was in shock! What else was he supposed to do? You were doing nothing for me!"

Robert did as I asked and got off of Sherlock. Sherlock yanked at his coat and began brushing himself off. "I don't think you two are dating." Robert hissed, reminding me of Wormtongue. "You wouldn't stay with anyone who hit you like that!"

"You're right. I have a confession to make. I lied to you when you first met Sherlock. He wasn't my boyfriend, he heard everything and played along to make you go away."

Robert's face lit up. "He isn't? I knew it! I knew you were lying!"

"She said wasn't, which in this situation could be applied as a past tense." Sherlock said placing his hand on my shoulder. I reached up and gripped his hand tightly. "It's not the case between us now though."

Robert's face froze and then twisted in anger. "What?"

"Sherlock and I, quite recently in fact realized that our feelings ran deeper than friendship inspired." I could practically feel Sherlock smirking behind me; I could hear the mirth in his voice. "We decided to go ahead and see where things lead us."

"Sherlock?" John said. "Lestrade's here."

We spun around to see Lestrade, Sally and a man with a sour face had entered the room. They had a group of other people with them and unfortunately, Robert wouldn't shut up. "I don't understand!" He shouted. "We had a good thing going and you throw me over for this…this!"

Sherlock drew himself up indignantly at Robert's insult. I reached up and tousled the curls at the nape of his neck. "Well, this man saved my life. And besides, looks can be deceiving. Sherlock will grow on you. I remember thinking once when I first met him that he wasn't much to look at either. In fact, I thought he was quite plain looking."

Sherlock glowered down at me. "Really?"

"But now," I wrapped my arm around his waist, giving him a quick squeeze before pulling away. "I'm certain he's one of the handsomest men on the face of this earth." I kissed his cheek and moved away from him. "Now Sherlock, since I've recovered, you and John finish up and then take me home. By the way Robert, what are you doing here?"

"Visiting my Aunt Ken. She's a professor here."

"So sorry to hear you say that." Sherlock pointed to her fallen body. "She's over there."

Robert's face went ashen and he dashed over to her. Sherlock wrapped his arm around my waist and guided me to where the police were loading Golem on a stretcher. I watched them for a while and shook my head, attempting to clear it. I then let out a groan and leaned forward, studying the floor and stretching my back.

"You ok?" Lestrade asked me kindly.

"Yes. My back is stiff."

"Oh for God's sake Andersen," Sherlock snapped. "stop ogling Tammy's chest."

I straightened and drew my shirt top around me closer. The pickle faced man glowered at Sherlock. "I wasn't!"

"Well, in case you're forgotten, you're married!" Sherlock shot back. "Maybe someone should remind Sally Donovan of that once in a while."

"Hey!" Sally snapped.

"Sherlock," Lestrade said. "can we get back to work?"

"Besides," I said patiently, trying not to show Sherlock that I was pleased at him calling Andersen out. "those two aren't worth wasting your spit on."

"You!" Sally said focusing on me. "What are you anyway? You're always here with freak—

"Call him freak again and I'll rip your hair out of your head!" I snapped at Sally. "I've gone through a lot in the last hour and I am in just the mood to carry out my threats!"

Sally sneered. "I'd like to see you try!"

That did it! I lunged at Sally with a shriek! Sally didn't have time to defend herself before I had a handful of her black curls and I pulled! Sally screamed and latched onto her hair, attempting to keep me from pulling it out.

Sherlock caught me around the waist, laughing as he pulled my hands away. "Oh!" I shouted. "Let me go!"

He pulled me against his chest. "As much as I'd like to see you rip Sally's hair out, can we save this for a later date? You need to go home."

"_After _I rip her all her hair out."

"Sherlock's right Tammy." John said, slipping into his doctor tone of voice. "You're under a great deal of stress. I'll get you something to sedate you."

"No!" I declared loudly.

"Do it John."

"You're not the boss of me!" I said as I whipped around and glowered at Sherlock. "You have no right!"

"Tomorrow, I am locking you in your room," Sherlock said as if he hadn't heard a word I said. "and I'm taking the key with me."

"Considering what I've gone through this evening, I won't argue with you!" I held out my hands to him, expecting him to throw cuffs on me. "Lock me up and throw away the key!"

* * *

**Charli: I'm flattered that you look forward to my story every day. I'm also glad that you are pleased with attempts to capture Sherlock's character because is EXTREMLEY complex to capture. I hop this chapter was fun for you and hold on, because the next chapter has a monkey wrench coming!**


	11. 11: Walking into another scenario

Chapter eleven

Walking into another scenario

I admit it. It was lovely. It was wonderful not having to go anywhere. I lounged in John and Sherlock's flat, mainly in Sherlock's chair for the better part of the day. Then, I remember that thanksgiving was next week! I wasn't sure if they actually celebrated thanksgiving, but it was my favorite holiday. So, I brought down all my cookbooks, my notebook laptop and began planning a nice little feast. I'd informed everyone at the club that I'd start up again on December first.

I'd stretched out in front of the fireplace with a cup of cocoa, with extra marshmallows, to the right of me. To my left, Josh Groban with his beautiful rendition of 'the moon's a harsh mistress' on repeat and he was now singing it for the fifth time. Ridiculous, I know, but it suited my mood, I loved the song and I had it stuck in my head. Songwriters, are the most powerful hypnotists. They have the power change our moods for better or for worse. If a memory traps itself within the heart of a song, the song will haunt you forever.

"Tammy?" Sherlock said. I flipped over onto my side and he gazed down at me. I smiled broadly as he stood over me. "You've been busy tonight."

I nodded and rolled over onto my back. "Yes. I'm planning thanksgiving for next week."

"Why?"

"Figure it out for yourself Mind Reader, I am part American."

"We don't do thanksgiving here."

"I'm aware of that. But I'd like to do it anyway."

"Suit yourself." Sherlock then pulled a tiny kitten from his coat pocket and handed it to me. "I got this to replace the one you lost."

I gasped and stared at the tiny, fuzzy, white kitten. "Oh! Sherlock!" he shrugged out of his coat and tossed it over his chair. "She's beautiful!" he got down on the floor and lay down beside me. "You're really sweet when you want to be."

"Don't tell John."

"Where is he?"

"I persuaded him to visit Sarah." He wrapped his arm around my waist. "So, I've got you for the night."

"I like that." I lay on my back, trapping the kitten between us. "So, what did you have in mind?"

Sherlock rolled over on his side and looked down at me. His eyes were serious and I trembled a little at the deepness of his gaze. "You're the Riddler, so, unravel the riddle in my eyes."

I reached up and touched his face. "Do you want to kiss me?"

"Brilliant deduction Tammy."

Sherlock leaned down and kissed me on the mouth. I smiled and wrapped my arms around his neck; temporarily forgetting about the adorable, kitten he'd just given me. Sherlock, really was testing the waters with this kiss. He opened his mouth slightly, catching my lower lip with his teeth and I felt my heart jump forward in my chest. Sherlock rolled ontop of me and I let out a murmured moan, as I slowly became aware of this position.

I knew Sherlock well enough to know that he wouldn't take advantage of me. His massive intellect certainly must have filed away that I wasn't giving my virginity to _any _man until I was married. And that included Sherlock Holmes, no matter how tempting the moment. His hands stayed respectfully behind my shoulders, so he wasn't really directly on top of me. Still, it was delicious, warmth that spread throughout my body. Yet, this warmth had a cold, electrical twinge along with it.

Sherlock broke the kiss and looked down at me. "You're nervous."

I nodded and decided to slip into my 'Elizabeth Bennett' mode, hoping to turn the atmosphere. "Indeed. Remember Sherlock, nothing…in…regards to going to engaging in intercourse together, is going to happen between us."

He looked at me as if I were an idiot. "I know that."

"Good." I exhaled in relief. "I forget from time to time that you're not like most men."

"Fortunately for you, I'm not like most men. So," he slid his hand down my side, causing me to giggle and his eyebrows rose. "you're ticklish?"

"Maybe." A light flashed in his eyes and I shrieked. "Sherlock! Don't!" he did, he poked me in the side and I laughed. "No!"

He laughed with me, a rich, baritone laugh that made me laugh harder. Once I started coughing did he stop. I looked up at him, to see him looking down on me, it was a strange look in his eyes, and I'd never seen it before. Then, I felt his long fingers on my exposed abdomen, and I jumped. No man, not even Robert had touched me in such a manner. With Sherlock, it was different; it was as if he were conducting an experiment. He was watching me, seeing what kind of an affect that his touch could have on me. I was a bug under his microscope and I was squirming.

"Sherlock." I croaked. Then, I felt his lips on my skin. I gasped and I blush to admit, I couldn't keep a moan from escaping my lips. "Sherlock!" He pressed another kiss to my stomach, before blowing a raspberry on my stomach. I shrieked. "Sherlock!" He laughed at my outrage. "Why you!"

"Oh god." That was John's voice. Sherlock and I both jumped and looked towards the door to see a shocked, John Watson standing in the doorway, with his mouth hanging open.

I blushed and looked at Sherlock, who'd turned into an emotionless statue. "What are you doing here?"

John exhaled and shook his head. "I forgot my coat." He ran his hand across his face. "Did I just…did I just interrupt…what I thought I was interrupting?"

"Oh grow up John," Sherlock said getting up off me and pulling me up from the ground. "we weren't doing anything."

"Not doing," John shook his head in amazement. "then what _we're _you doing? And with Tammy! You should have more respect for her!"

"I hold her in the highest respect." He commented brushing off his coat. "And frankly John, what goes on between Tammy and I is none of your concern."

"Oh really?" John crossed his arms over his chest. His gaze was firm and determined and I could see the military in him come out in his eyes at that moment. He appeared as if he was going to unleash his fury on a private that simply refused to learn. "You listen to me Sherlock. Tammy is a wonderful girl, and you, you're not used to relationships." Sherlock's brows rose in amusement. "So, pardon me if I do seem nosy, but I do have a responsibility to make sure that you, in your typical careless manner, don't hurt her."

Sherlock turned to me. "You have quite the champion Tammy."

I smiled. "Indeed. Thank you John. But, try not to be too rough on Sherlock." I stooped down and picked up the kitten. "Look, Sherlock picked up Rumpleteazer for me. Isn't she sweet?"

"Rumpleteazer?" Sherlock asked with a wrinkled face. "What kind of a name is that?"

"A good one," John said, rubbing Rumpleteazer's chin with his finger, which she attacked in earnest. "feisty isn't she?"

"Yes. But she's sweet." I looked at Sherlock. "And it was really sweet of you to bring her to me."

"Well, after your amazing defense of me and your nearly tragic death-

"Stop being so dramatic." I said. "I was kidnapped, not killed."

"And you should have died in the car." He frowned. "I don't know why. Why, did his boss tell him not to kill you? It doesn't make sense!"

I shrugged. "I don't know Sherlock." I stood up and went to the refrigerator. "There's no milk."

John got into his coat. "I'll get some."

"Actually, I can run down to the corner and get some." I said glancing at Sherlock who was sitting on his chair, with his feet on the seat. "Sherlock, is obviously busy, so maybe he'll be out of his 'mind palace' by the time I get back."

He nodded. "Right. I'll walk you down the steps."

"Thanks John." I grabbed my coat. "But I suspect you want to talk to talk more about Sherlock and I without him present."

He nodded as he shut the apartment door. "Yes. So, what is going on between you? Are you two dating or what?"

"We are doing a mixture of courtship, dating and casual acquaintances."

"Well, what I saw Sherlock doing was _definitely _not casual." He said. "I still can't believe this. When did all this happen?"

I laughed. "The day of the first bombing. He's so funny John, I wasn't expecting it! He nearly shocked me out of my seat!"

John rolled his eyes. "I can imagine. You and Sherlock! Who'd have thought?"

"I hoped, but wasn't expecting it. I do care for him John."

"You're in love with him." John stated. "I can tell."

I nodded. "Yes. But, I'm not going to tell him that."

"Why not?"

"This is Sherlock we are talking about John. He's just getting comfortable around me, a little too comfortable I think at times."

"So, are you two going to…get married?" the idea of being Sherlock's wife stopped me dead in my tracks. Not that the idea was bad, it sounded rather nice, but it was down right impossible. "It's just you seem like the kind of woman who'd want to raise a family."

"You're correct John, but again, this is Sherlock. We have this kind of relationship that's out of a song. Like, 'You don't have to say you love me,' you know what I mean."

"That's not much promise for the future."

"I know, I know what I'm getting into as well."

John nodded. "And all because you answered a riddle out of thin air!" I laughed, as did he. "I'll see you later then, tell Sherlock I said bye."

"I will."

I then walked briskly down the street. The air was warmer than it had been the last few nights. Suddenly, an odd, cold feeling washed over me, as if someone had just stomped all over my grave. I didn't know why I felt this way and I had felt it once before. I was working and my father was in the hospital and suddenly I had this feeling. I called and insisted that they check on my father. The long delay told me what they soon told me; my father had died minutes after my call.

I hurried back to the apartment as soon as possible. I wasn't surprised when I realized that Sherlock was gone. I pulled out my phone and texted him and John. Neither man answered me. Now, it's not like me to panic, but I had this gut feeling that something was wrong.

I glanced around the apartment, and then I noticed Sherlock's laptop was out. He didn't bother to put a password on it, for who would risk his wrath by tampering with his stuff? I opened it and pressed the enter key. He had several windows open, one was to his website and he'd sent a message to someone, asking them to meet him at a pool tonight. Now, I didn't have known what pool, so I checked his browsing history. And I was successful. The pool he mentioned was the Bristol south swimming pool.

I got a warmer coat and headed down the stairs to flag a taxi. Neither man answered my texts. I shot Sherlock an urgent one. _I've got a funny feeling that you and John are in danger and I'd like to know what it is. I'm really worried on this end. _Again, I still received no response.

I don't remember how long the ride took, and maybe I was imagining things. I glanced at my phone for the fifteen thousandth time and I didn't see a message. I went straight towards the pool facilities. Something, was just plain wrong. The air, it had an overwhelming sense of evil. I decided to try a side door, instead of a front door and was rewarded with it being unlocked.

I walked through several corridors and I heard the sound of voices talking. One voice sounded very familiar. It almost sounded like Johnny. But it couldn't be him. Could it? "Do you know what happens if you don't leave me alone Sherlock?" he asked. "Do you?"

"Oh let me guess," that was definitely Sherlock. I knew that voice _anywhere._ "I get killed?"

"Kill you? Hmm, no, don't be obvious."

I pushed the swinging door open and found myself in this huge room with a huge pool. And I instantly realized that my instinct had caused me to walk into another huge scenario. John was standing there, with what I assumed were bombs strapped to his chest. Sherlock, had a gun pointed to my brother's forehead. But why? What was going on? Why was my brother here and why did Sherlock have a gun pointed at his head? God good, Johnny couldn't be the insane bomber?! Could he?

"I'm going to kill you anyway, someday. I don't want to rush it though. I'm saving it up for something special." I couldn't believe it. I sank against the wall in shock. My brother, my last living relative, was threatening to kill Sherlock Holmes, the man I was in love with. Silent tears, leaked down my cheeks. "If you don't stop trying…I will burn you. I will burn the heart out of you.

"I have been reliably informed that I don't have one."

"But we both know that's not quite true." His voice changed. "There's a woman." The gun wavered in Sherlock's hand for a moment. "Tammy Taylor."

"You will leave her out of this." Sherlock stated firmly. "This doesn't concern her."

"You really should stay away from her." Johnny said. "She's too good for you."

At this point, I had to make my presence known. "Actually, I have the right to chose who I wish to associate with." I said as I came out through the side door. All three heads turned towards me. The moment all the men laid eyes on me, their faces went as pale as death. "And unfortunately, this does concern me." I wiped my eyes. "and I wish to God it didn't."

"Tammy," Sherlock stated urgently. "Get out of here. Now!"

I shook my head. "I can't." I turned to Johnny. "Or can I leave?"

He frowned at me. "Why are you here?"

"Sherlock left his laptop on." I turned to him. "I used some of his deduction skills that he passed onto me to figure out where he was going."

Johnny nodded. "You always were curious as a child."

"Do you know him Tammy?" John asked.

I nodded. "Yes." My voice broke. "Unfortunately, I do know him, too well. John, Sherlock, meet my brother."

Sherlock's eyes widened and he demanded. "Your brother is James Moriarty?"


	12. 12: A deal with the devil

Chapter twelve

A deal with the devil

"Actually," Johnny, or really James now, spoke. "she didn't know. I tried getting information about you out of her, but she really doesn't like to talk about you."

Sherlock's eyes locked onto me. "Why didn't you tell me Tammy?"

"I didn't know he was involved in a case with you!" I said. "We've been missing each other! We've barely even had time to talk! And you ordered me to stay in my flat today!"

"And he made up for it by buying you that kitten." James said. "I saw you two upstairs," he laughed at Sherlock. "and you say you don't have a heart. I think I've found it."

"You were spying on us?" I shouted.

"Oh I couldn't help keeping an eye on my dear sister and my dearest enemy."

"You're insane!" I glowered at James. "How could you? You lied to me! You told me you were a government agent!"

"Yeah. I lied, I know." He stuffed his hands in his pockets. "You're really a gullible girl, Tammy."

"You weren't happy to see me," I said. "you wanted to find out about Sherlock. Unfortunately, I know as much about Sherlock as the next person."

"Oh come on, you're his girlfriend. You know him better than anyone."

"I'd have to be Sherlock Holmes, to know him better than anyone. We only decided to attempt a relationship the day you set off the first gas bomb."

"That's quite romantic." He said sarcastically. "Really Sherlock?"

"I don't think you should criticize him." I stared at him. "You're a bloody murderer!"

"My hands are clean." He said, holding them up for me to see. "I never set the bombs off."

"I don't believe you."

"I'm your brother."

"Who I haven't seen for over ten years!" I snapped at him. "And look at what you've become! Mother would be so disappointed in you." My words, shouldn't have hit him hard, but they did. I saw him flinch. Father had told me before he passed away, that I resembled her; I hoped for everyone's sake, that he'd spoken true. "I'm glad she's not here to see what you've become."

"Tammy, leave now." He said. "I won't make this offer again."

I stood by Sherlock, my hands still trembled. "You said you wouldn't hurt me once. I remember when you stood up for me and protected me from bullies. I'm sad to see that you've become a bully."

"Tammy," Sherlock said. "leave, now. Sister or not, it won't make any difference to him."

I ignored him. "I like it where I am."

"Tammy," John said. "just go, we'll be fine."

I shook my head. "It's Johnny's call."

"James Moriarty." Sherlock commented.

"I'm sure he's agreed that I've had enough pain in my life and I don't need more. So, Johnny, I mean James, or whatever your name is now. Either let all three of us walk out of here together, or, you can set the bomb off and destroy all three of us."

"Don't be a fool Tammy." James said. "I'm not going to kill you."

"So, are they free to leave? John and Sherlock won't get blown up?"

James frowned at me. "I don't like being ordered around like this Tammy."

"Either this or you blow me up." I said. "That way, you can't hurt me again. I can leave here, knowing that my only friends I have in the world are still alive. Or, you can blow all three of us up together, since we're so close to bomb, I'm certain it won't hurt much."

He sneered. "You're like _him_, always good at twisting ones arm."

"Only yours at this moment."

He nodded. "All right, we'll haggle." He rubbed his chin. "How about this? I let Watson and Sherlock go, on one condition and I won't bother them again."

"What's the condition?"

"Don't listen Tammy." Sherlock said.

"Oh don't worry Sherlock," James said. "it doesn't really concern you." He smirked at me. "You just have to breakup with Sherlock."

I stared at him, his words not sinking in completely. "What do you mean?"

"I'm saying, the two of you stop dating."

"Oh don't be ridiculous," Sherlock said. "we haven't even gone out for dinner or anything like that!"

"Ho!" James laughed. "you're a slow mover."

"What are the conditions?" I asked, wanting to get out of this dangerous triangle this instance.

Sherlock groaned. "Ugh, Tammy, you're not considering this are you?"

"I am." I stepped towards James. "What are the conditions?"

"You move out of Baker Street immediately." His eyes gleamed with a coldness that made me shiver. "Find better accommodations."

"I'll move into my club."

"Fine. And…the two of you will never, ever come into contact with each other."

I nodded. "All right. I promise."

"Tammy." Sherlock snapped. "Will you stay out of this? I have everything under control!"

"I can see that." I ignored him and turned back to James. "I'd like to request that these conditions become reality on the first day of the New Year."

"Why?"

I glowered at him. "Because I don't want to be alone during Christmas. You promised me that I could make a request of you and you'd make up for all those years you weren't there. Unless your black heart has closed completely closed itself to me, this is the only request I wish that you'd fulfill for me."

I held his gaze, watching those cold, dark eyes of his search my face. Then, he held out his hand. "I agree."

I shook his hand and evil washed over me in waves. I pulled free and stepped back. "Goodbye Jim."

"You can still call me Johnny." He said. "James Moriarty is my business alias."

"No." I shook my head. "Johnny's dead. And James Moriarty is no friend of mine."

He glowered at me for a long time before turning and focusing his attention on Sherlock. "Well, I better be off. So nice to have had a proper chat."

Sherlock, still had the gun pointed to James's head. "What if I was to kill you now? Right now?"

"Then you could cherish the look of surprise on my face." James widened his eyes in mock surprised and I turned aside. "Because I'd be surprised Sherlock, really I would. And just a teensy bit disappointed. Blowing out my brains, in front of my sister and your soon to be ex-girlfriend." He shook his head. "She'd never forgive you for that."

"Don't bet on that." I muttered as I turned aside.

"And of course you wouldn't be able to cherish it for very long." He turned and walked past me, stopping and pressing a brotherly kiss on my forehead to annoy Sherlock and completely gross me out. I fought the urge to slap him, but I wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of knowing how he really disgusted me. "Bye Tammy, chaio, Sherlock Holmes."

"Catch…. You… later." Sherlock said as he stepped towards John.

"No you won't!" James sing-songed as he shut the door.

I sank to my knees as numbness filled my body. Sherlock got John out of the jacket with the bombs and slid it down past me, to the far end of the pool. I wasn't really registering anything, like John; I was shocked over all that had transpired. I turned to look at both men, who were breathing heavily and for a moment that's all I heard.

Sherlock then decided to do a little pacing, rubbing the back of his head with a loaded gun. I rolled my eyes. Had he never heard of gun safety before?

"You ok?" John asked.

"Me?" Sherlock said quickly. "Yeah. Fine." Then I watched as Sherlock morphed into Fonzie. At least, Fonzie when he was being forced to say that he was wrong and he just couldn't find the words. He also began slapping the gun on the side of his leg. "That uh, thing that you, uhm, did, that you offered to do. That was uhm…good."

"I am glad no one saw that." John said quietly.

"Saw what?" I asked.

"Sherlock, ripping my clothes off in a darkened swimming pool." I shook my head and began chuckling at the bland way John was delivering the line. "People might talk."

Sherlock exhaled. "People do little else." He then turned towards me and my heart jumped in my throat at the look of anger in his eyes. "And you." He walked towards me. "What were _you _doing here?"

"I was worried."

"You were worried? I left a note for you!"

"Where?" I demanded. "I didn't see a note!"

"With your recipes!"

I exhaled. "You deduced wrong. After finding you gone, I didn't check my recipe area for a note, but I checked everywhere else."

"How did you know how to find,

"Your laptop history."

"I need to put a password on now." He muttered before raising his voice. "And why'd you promise your brother that you'd break up with me?" He demanded as he pulled me up from my position on the ground. "We only just got started, technically, two or three days ago!"

"Damn it Sherlock!" John shouted at him. Sherlock and I jumped, both taken by surprise at John's outburst. "Inspite of your 'massive intellect' you can't deduce that she did it to keep you safe!"

Sherlock looked to me and spoke, his tone snappish. "What makes you think I can't take care of myself?"

"Because he is you!" I shouted. "A darker, evil side of you! Why shouldn't I be concerned? And don't you dare say it's because you're smarter than him because I know that is a possibility."

"Are you saying he's smarter than me?"

"No! I'm saying he's evil! Evil has no limitations and goodness does. He won't play fair!"

"You forgot that I defeated him Tammy." He said. "Five times today."

"Four."

"Five! And I insist that you break this promise you gave him."

"I shook his hand and I promised."

"Promises with the devil don't pay off." He studied me. "I still don't completely understand why you did that!"

"Oh for God's sake Sherlock," John said. "she's in love with you!"

I gasped and looked up at Sherlock; he was staring at me in stunned surprise. I covered my mouth as tears filled my eyes and bile rose in my throat. I couldn't stand the long silence and Sherlock's gaze. I turn and ran out of the room, with John's voice still yelling at Sherlock. I closed my ears, attempting to blot out the words that rolled around in my head. For a moment, I stopped, and focused on a tile square in front of me. I think I was attempting to erase the events from moments ago clearly from my head.

Arms grabbed me from behind and I screamed until I realized that Sherlock had caught up with me. John was right behind him. Sherlock wrapped and arm around my waist and continued walking towards the exit.

"Stop it with the dramatics Tammy, it's not going to help you any." He stated casually as if he hadn't heard a single word John had hurled at his head. "Now, we've all had a long day and we're all saying things we don't mean." Those words chilled me to the bone. "Now, Mrs. Hudson is putting on tea and cocoa, so it should be ready for us by the time we arrive."


End file.
